The Only One
by Barriss-Before-It-Was-Cool
Summary: 'He treated her with a gentleness she had never known before. While she would spend her days in filthy alleys with drunken strangers, her nights would be salvaged by this fiery yet gentle man who made her feel wanted and loved, if merely for a few hours and if only in her head.' Enjolras/Eponine. Rated M for a reason. NOW A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! As you can see, I've decided to make this one-shot of mine into a multi-chaptered fic. A lot of people have asked me to continue this story, so here I am obliging.

Before you start reading, please take note that this fic is mostly a medium for me to spew out my smutty ideas and the main focus of the story will be the sexual relationship my mind has created for these two characters. For now at least. I swear there is a plot, even though it will be a while until we get there, but as I said, this is first and foremost a smutfic. Also, it is worth mentioning that I will go fully AU with the story, so some of the things I will write may not seem 100% plausible. As I said, I want to focus more on their relationship than the world around them.

Regarding the actual sex scenes, they WILL become explicit and detailed, so if you are uncomfortable with that, then I suggest you stop reading right now. Also, I doubt any dubious sex will take place within my fic, but if I decide that it fits, I will not hesitate to add it in, whether I condone of such behavior or not. But don't worry, I will make sure to post warnings if the need arises.

**THERE HAVE BEEN SLIGHT MODIFICATIONS MADE TO THE FIRST CHAPTER. IT'S NOT 100% NECESSARY TO READ IT AGAIN IF YOU ALREADY HAVE, BUT IT WILL HELP MAKE THE STORY FLOW BETTER. **

I'd like to thank to the awesome ThinksInWords for looking the chapter over and to all the people over at our Enjonine forum for helping me stay motivated and being a great inspiration to me.

Anyway, enough chit-chat, let's get on with the story. Enjoy.

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**Chapter 1**

_April 16__th__ 1832_

"Please Monsieur" she begged, pulling on his shirt sleeve as the man tried to release himself from her grip.

"No Éponine!" Enjolras grumbled, pushing the gamine off of him, but gently enough so as not to cause any more injuries than she was already sporting on her small, malnourished body. His eyes roamed over her petite frame, counting the new cuts and bruises that had appeared since the last time she had invaded his apartment. He sighed, willing himself not to cave in and indulge the girl, if only out of pity.

"But Monsieur!" Éponine whined in protest and placed her hands on his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, and pressed her body against his. She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, savoring his scent; she loved how he always smelled so clean compared to the filthy and repulsive men she usually associated herself with.

"Please" the gamine breathed against his skin. "You're the only one who can make me feel good. Please."

Ignoring the shiver Éponine's closeness sent down his spine, Enjolras grabbed the girl by the arms and shoved her away.

"That's only because your precious Pontmercy won't have you…" he spat and glared at her with such intensity that she involuntarily took a few steps back.

He scowled for a few more moments before turning his back on her and sauntering off to his bed; he jumped in and closed his eyes as he lay on his back with his limbs outstretched on either side of his body.

Éponine smiled hopefully and moved to join him before his cold voice made her stop in her tracks.

"You can let yourself out" he said, not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow.

She scoffed. '_Why is he being so difficult?_' she thought. She knew he wanted this just as much as she did. Why did he have to let his stupid pride get in the way of their fun?

Éponine couldn't help but take a moment to admire the young man's form as he lay defenseless on his bed; she gazed at his mind-numbingly gorgeous face that made her go weak in the knees, his strong yet lean body that she adored, his blond curls that she loved running her fingers through. Enjolras may not have had Marius' sweet and kind demeanor, but there was something about him that enchanted her to the point of intoxication, he ignited a burning desire within her like no other man had ever managed, not even her beloved Marius. And she truly loved Marius, he was the one her heart belonged to, but Enjolras was like an addiction she could not rid herself of.

She felt the familiar ache in her lower abdomen as she stared at his sprawled frame, and without even giving it a second thought she unlaced her dress and let it fall in a heap around her ankles. The gamine stood completely bare, except for the thin layer of sweat that covered her entire body, hoping he would open his eyes and see her. When he didn't, she scoffed once again and purposefully walked towards the bed.

"Enjolras" she cooed, fishing desperately for his attention.

"Leave Éponine!" he deadpanned, not moving a muscle.

Enjolras frowned when he felt the bed dip. "Éponine I told you, I'm not going to – " he began, but froze when he felt something soft and wet graze the fingertips of one of his hands. He swallowed.

Éponine wanted to giggle, but all she managed were soft whimpers as she perched herself on her shins, which were stationed on either side of his hand and lowered herself so her throbbing core brushed against his large fingers.

The young man tried to pull his hand away, but she swiftly stopped him by leaning forward and grabbing his forearm with one hand and his bicep with the other, keeping his arm in place, all the while never stopping her rhythmic hip movements above his fingers.

His hand was drenched in her juices in a matter of seconds, and he could feel his pants becoming uncomfortably tight, his own arousal already beginning to ache for release.

Éponine moaned as she began grinding harder against his fingers, stimulating her clit with each rocking motion, letting the thrilling sensation wash over her and relishing in the rapture that coursed through her entire body. She heard Enjolras' fast and shallow breaths and she couldn't help but smirk at seeing his reddened cheeks and his brow glistening with sweat. He still hadn't opened his eyes, but the frown on his face and the clenched jaw were a clear sign of his internal struggle and pure sexual frustration.

"Please Monsieur!" Éponine whined, pressing her sex down hard on his soaked hand and bucking her hips, trying desperately to show him just how much she needed him.

She cried out as Enjolras finally relented and slipped a finger shallowly inside of her, a guttural moan escaping his own lips as he felt the warmth of her walls envelop him.

Using his arm as support, Éponine pressed down on his hand allowing his finger to penetrate deeper; she began raising herself then coming back down, slowly withering away with each torturous motion.

When he added a second finger she moaned loudly and dug her nails into his skin as he started thrusting in and out of her wet depths, making her delirious with pleasure.

Enjolras could finally stand it no longer. He could feel her pulse around his fingers, her moans and whimpers music to his ears, and he desperately wanted more. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the gamine.

The young man couldn't help the growl that escaped his lips at the sight of Éponine, bent forward towards him, riding his hand slowly and sensually, her face contorted in ecstasy as she responded to his touch. She was breathtaking and he shook with anticipation at the thought of replacing his fingers with his aching shaft. He took his free hand and hastily undid his pants, sliding them to his thighs, releasing his throbbing erection from the constricting garment.

Éponine grinned hungrily at the sight of him and began slowly leaning forward until her face was only a few inches away from his arousal. She flicked her tongue lightly against his tip, which earned her a deep groan from the revolutionary.

She did this a few more times and would have wanted to tease him longer, but her own needs won over her desire for revenge so she plunged her head down and took him into her mouth, greedily licking and sucking as she bobbed her head up and down his erection.

Enjolras cried out as ecstasy spread throughout his body; he buried his hand - the one that wasn't still thrusting inside of her - into her dark brown tresses, pushing her head lower onto his arousal until his full length was inside her mouth. She moaned and the vibration of her throat almost sent him over the edge. He swiftly pulled her up by the hair and brought her head to his, crashing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

She mewled into his mouth as his tongue swept inside of her and his fingers relentlessly pumped into her slit, making her world spin. She felt weak, yet her body was electrified with each thrust, with each touch; she was so close, yet he wouldn't let her finish.

Enjolras grinned. He loved keeping her on the tip of arousal, raising the tension inside of her then ruthlessly bringing her back down, her squirms and whimpers of protest making him quiver with sadistic delight. He added a third finger and thrust hard inside of her while his thumb began gently circling her clit.

Éponine screamed and jerked up at the overwhelming sensation. "Enjolras, please!" she begged, not even able to respond to his kisses anymore. "Please! Please! Please!" she panted to the rhythm of his strokes and managed to bring her hand to his pelvis, grabbing his arousal by the tip, squeezing it lightly.

He hissed and bucked his hips against her palm, his throbbing erection screaming, begging for blessed release as she stroked his length eagerly. It took every ounce of control he had to keep himself from erupting, so without waiting any longer Enjolras quickly removed his hand form her center and guided the gamine to his lap, placing her so that she was now straddling him, her sex brushing against his own.

They stared at each other for a second, and the young man couldn't help but be stricken by how beautiful Éponine looked as she hovered over his tip, her face flushed and glistening from the heat emanating from her body, her eyes hooded, filled with want, her juices dripping down her things and onto his own. He hungered for her more than he ever thought possible.

Éponine was thinking much of the same thing. The sight of Enjolras lying underneath, breathing harshly and gazing at her like a starving beast sent shivers to her core.

Without breaking eye contact, he took the hand that had been inside of her and brought it to his mouth, brushing his drenched fingers on his lips, smearing them with her juices. He then stuck his tongue out and licked his lips clean, savoring the sweetness of her arousal. He slid his other hand around her stomach and glided it up to her chest, cupping her left breast and brushing her nipple with his thumb.

"Enjolras" she moaned and her legs shook underneath her.

"Go ahead" he breathed and looked at her darkly, incapable of refusing her any longer.

Éponine smiled in gratitude and began slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing erection, pressing his tip against her folds. She groaned when his head finally entered her.

Enjolras bit his lip as he slid inside her slowly, forcing himself not to explode as he felt her wet walls embrace him. She was so tight it almost hurt. He grabbed her by the waist and thrust his hips upwards, shoving the rest of himself inside of her all at once and they both cried out at the blissful sensation.

Éponine's mind could no longer keep up, so she let her body take over. She started moving up and down his length, the friction sending shocks throughout her core. She lifted herself, letting him almost slip out and then pushed him back in, throwing her head back and whimpering in the process. She did this a few more times, before Enjolras stopped her and held her in place by the hips.

His breathing was harsh and labored, and the pulsating vein in his temple told her that he was close to breaking too.

Before she knew what was happening she was lying on her back, screaming as he pounded into her fast, hard and in a steady rhythm. His large hands roamed all over her body caressing her skin, cupping her breasts and his fingers pinching her nipples. His lips found hers and he kissed her hungrily, his tongue exploring every inch of her crevice, his teeth nibbling on her lower lip.

This was why Éponine came to him. Enjolras may have been a ruthless revolutionary, a terrible young man who only thought of liberty and uprisings, but here with her, on his bed, he was nothing but a passionate, thorough lover. He was not Marius, she did not love him, but being with this man somehow gave her an odd sense of fulfillment. While she would spend her days aimlessly walking through filthy alleys , begging or stealing to keep herself alive, her nights would be salvaged by this fiery man who made her feel wanted, if merely for a few hours and if only in her head.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she concentrated on the sounds that came from his body meeting hers and the bed that was creaking from the force of his thrusts. She mewled in his mouth with every push, and she felt the pressure inside of her build up.

He pulled his head back and stared at her face. Her expression was twisted in pleasure and the soft cries she made while he pumped inside of her made his heart drum violently in his chest; he loved seeing her this way, knowing that it was he and he alone who could make her scream and shudder in ecstasy like this. He increased his tempo to match his speeding pulse and he could feel himself slowly slipping into the abyss.

Éponine raised her pelvis and lifted her legs, placing them on his hips, hugging him and inviting him to go in deeper. She cried out as he pushed at the new angle, hitting spots within her that she never knew existed.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop" she pleaded and Enjolras obliged, pounding ferociously into her until she screamed out and her whole body shuddered uncontrollably as the intense waves of pleasure washed over, her orgasm frenzied and violent.

Enjolras groaned loudly as her body clenched around him, and after a few more thrusts he joined her in delirium and finally let go, burying his head in the crook of her neck as he flooded himself inside of her.

They panted in unison for a few moments, both of their bodies heavy and weak with exhaustion. They held each other tight until they regained their senses, snapping out of the blissful daze that always came after the hysteria of sex and rapture of release.

"Thank you, Monsieur" Éponine whispered, truly content and, for the first time in days, relaxed.

Enjolras lifted his head to gaze at her face with a thoughtful expression. He did this for a few moments before silently extracting himself from within her and rolling off her body, landing on his back beside her.

She sighed when he didn't say a word and began moving to get out of bed and on her way; she didn't want to bother him more than necessary, fearing that next time he would reject her even more adamantly.

She got to her feet, making sure not to touch him again and went about dressing herself. It didn't take her long, as her outfit consisted only of a ratty old skirt and a filthy chemise that was a bit too large for her, so after only a couple of minutes she was ready to leave. She glanced back at him one last time before making her way to the door.

"We will not be doing this again, 'Ponine. Do you understand?" Enjolras said suddenly, still keeping his eyes fixed on the sealing.

She smirked. "Whatever you say, Monsieur." And with that, she disappeared behind the door and shut it closed behind her.

Enjolras listened to the sound of Éponine traversing the sitting room and sighed after he heard the familiar slam of his front door. '_I will have to be sterner with her next time_' he thought lazily as he closed his eyes and drifted off into a relaxed slumber.

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Hope you enjoyed, the second chapter will be coming up soon. Reviews are very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

And here we have chapter 2. This one is a lot more detailed than the first chapter and it took me quite a long time to write it.

A quick reminder, that some modifications have been made to chapter 1. It's not 100% necessary to read it, but it would make the story flow better.**  
**

A big thank you to the awesome ThinksInWords for looking the chapter over and to all the people over at our Enjonine forum for helping me stay motivated and being a great inspiration to me.

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**Chapter 2**

_ April 22__nd__ 1832_

"Get out!"

"But Monsieur – "

"No buts, Éponine! Get out now!" Enjolras bellowed as he tried to drag the gamine out of his flat.

Enough was enough. They had been playing this ridiculous game of theirs for the better part of three months now, and the rules were always the same: Éponine would come knocking at his apartment door, begging him to, as she so eloquently put it, 'make her feel good'; Enjolras would try to reason with her and argue why they should abstain from making any more mistakes; Éponine, being the intelligent, cunning woman she was, always managed to make him cave; and Enjolras always ended up being the loser, never able to deny her needs, or his own.

He had to end this; he could not take it anymore. Yes, the sex was incredible, and it would be a lie if he claimed he did not enjoy it. He actually enjoyed it very much, but the fact of the matter was that it was clouding his mind; becoming preoccupied with a woman in such a way was not part of his plans. The only thing Enjolras needed to focus on was France. His impoverished country that was enslaved by this accursed constitutional monarchy, its miserable people, the need for freedom and justice… these were the things that needed his undivided attention, not the carnal needs of a woman.

There was also the problem of his constant craving for this girl. He found himself thinking of her at inopportune moments, and sometimes he even found it difficult to hold back from seeking her out himself. Enjolras had never before felt the need, nor desire, to be intimate with another person. Intercourse had always been a subject in which he had found absolutely nothing of interest; that is until that fateful night in which he and Éponine had first been together. Since then, his views had been completely and irrevocably altered. He now found the act extremely enjoyable, almost addicting, and a particularly excellent way to relieve pent-up stress, of which he was commonly known to suffer.

But no matter how agreeable he found their time spent together, the fact remained that it was not healthy. They were not in a relationship, they knew very little about each other, and being in love was completely out of the question. Furthermore, he knew for a fact that Éponine was merely using him. He was nothing more than a second-rate substitution for Pontmercy, and that infuriated him more than he would ever admit. To this girl, he was a means to escape the wretched existence their sordid society had forced upon her, and had circumstances been different, he would have gladly offered her his full support, but as things were right now he could not afford to do so.

No, this needed to end, and it needed to end now.

Éponine was still staring up at him with those large brown eyes he liked so much; it was difficult, but he needed to be strict with her.

Enjolras opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off by a flash of blinding light, followed by a loud cracking sound from outside.

"It appears tonight will be a wet one" Éponine commented distractedly, her eyes still completely focused on his face.

They contemplated each other for a moment, the sound of thunder being the only thing that would now and then break the silence that had fallen upon the room.

Éponine was the one to break their eye contact. She lowered her head, trying to hide the smirk on her face. "Well then, I suppose I should be on my way" she said, and turned to leave.

Enjolras followed her with his gaze, an insecure expression shadowing his features. He could hear the wind pick up outside and the thunder getting louder. His jaw clenched.

She was just about to go through the door when he suddenly called after her, stopping the gamine in her tracks. Her smile widened, but she quickly repressed it and turned around on her heels to face the young man, raising her eyebrows in fake confusion.

"Yes, Monsieur?" she asked in the most innocent tone she could achieve.

Enjolras really did not like that tone.

"Just come in" he grumbled, gritting his teeth in annoyance. There was no way Enjolras could possibly let the poor girl go out on the streets in this sort of weather; besides being ungentlemanly, it was inhumane. He sighed in defeat.

"Thank you" Éponine quipped and almost skipped her way back inside the apartment, a large, pretty smile decorating her face.

Even though her current mien annoyed him, he liked it when she smiled like that. He looked at her bemusedly as she slowly approached him with a childish, yet mischievous look in her eyes.

The gamine moved to embrace him, but was stopped by Enjolras holding up his palms in front of her, the stern look returning brusquely to his face

"Sofa" he gestured towards the red loveseat that was the centerpiece of the sitting room they found themselves in. It was one of the few pieces of furniture Enjolras owned that looked remotely elegant and expensive. Though it was fairly small in size, it was more than enough for Éponine's small body to be able to rest comfortably.

She stared at him in disbelief. She wanted to protest, but it was clear that he was not going to waver on the matter.

"I will see you in the morning" he said tersely. "Good night."

And without another word he turned on his heels, marched towards his bedroom, and disappeared behind the door, slamming it shut behind him.

The gamine was left alone to stare at the spot where Enjolras had stood only seconds ago. She clicked her tongue. '_Poor man_' she smirked, '_how can you possibly believe I would give up so easily?_'

'_There is no chance she will give up so easily_' Enjolras pondered as he went about removing his clothes and changing into his sleepwear. He was certain Éponine would somehow try to get her way; she was very stubborn like that. He just needed to ascertain there would be no opening for her to take advantage of.

There was no lock on the door, so shutting himself in was not a possibility. He looked around the room, hoping to find something of use in the matter, but of course he was out of luck. Enjolras knew he really did not have many options, but if there was one thing he could do, it was learn from his mistakes.

Remembering their last encounter, the blond plopped down on his bed, took the duvet and covered himself up to his neck. He turned to his side and buried his hands underneath the pillow, making sure they were completely out of reach.

There was nothing more he could do now, except pray that she would have the decency to respect his wishes and not come barging into his room, trying to force herself upon him again.

After several minutes, Enjolras was still alone, and he could feel the numbness of sleep begin to take over his body. '_Perhaps she will actually behave this time_' he thought as he felt his consciousness slowly slip away.

It proved to be only wishful thinking however, as not a minute later he heard the sound of the door creaking open and someone slowly entering his bedroom. His hands clenched into fists underneath the pillow. '_Oh, for the love of God!_' he thought as he gritted his teeth in frustration.

He considered getting up and yelling at her to get out, but decided against it and took to just lie there unmoving, pretending he was asleep. Enjolras did not want to be too harsh with her, no matter how exasperating she could be; he did not want to scare her, or make her hate him. He hoped that if he just ignored her and pretended to be in deep slumber, she would give up and return to her own bed.

He felt the bed dip next to him, and he fought to suppress a groan. '_Of course she would not give up._'

There was some odd shifting on the mattress; Enjolras had no clue what she was up to, but he was not particularly keen on finding out. He kept his eyes firmly shut, and tried to pretend Éponine was not there.

Suddenly, he felt the bed dip on both sides of his head and frowned. '_What in the world is she doing?_'

Cursing his curiosity, Enjolras covertly opened one eye to see what exactly was happening. He was surprised to be met by the sight of a small foot standing directly in front of his face. He almost wrinkled his brows in a frown, but remembered he was supposed to be asleep and hastily closed his eye and resumed his feigning.

"Don't pretend to be asleep, Monsieur, stealth and deceit are my forte, not yours" he heard Éponine chuckle from somewhere up above.

Enjolras had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything rude. Knowing there was no point in keeping up this pretense any longer he opened both eyes and rolled over to lie on his back, with the intent of admonishing her for once again going against his wishes. Or at least he would have, had he not been frozen on the spot and rendered completely speechless by the sight that greeted him as he looked up.

Éponine was standing directly above him with both feet planted firmly on the mattress on either side of his head and her hands holding onto on the bed's headboard for support. She was also completely naked, and all Enjolras could actually see was the bare flesh between her legs. She was facing the wall and she was staring down at him with a bemused expression. "Are you all right?" she asked innocently.

He swallowed hard and found that his throat had gone unexpectedly dry. He could also feel his manhood slowly hardening under the covers as he stared up at her center, unable to take his eyes away. He could have done with a drink right now.

Éponine chuckled as she gazed down at him through hooded eyes. Seeing the blush slowly spread on his cheeks and his mouth hang open as he stared up at her sex told her she had already won. Knowing she was the only one who could bring out such expressions out of this stoic man who only knew revolution and politics made her feel empowered. Her heart couldn't help but flutter with pride and the ache in the pit of her stomach could only grow in intensity as this so-called marble man gazed at her with such obvious ravenous lust. She could not wait for him to put that desire to good use.

She needed this man to make her feel good, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Éponine needed to feel wanted, and right now, Enjolras wanted her.

"Get off the bed, 'Ponine" Enjolras said tersely all of a sudden.

It surprised her. '_He is being more stubborn than usual_' she thought and clicked her tongue in annoyance.

Enjolras was not pleased with the situation he found himself in. He was trying hard to keep himself from caving and taking the girl right then and there. He was actually clutching his bed sheets so tightly his knuckles had turned while, all the while trying to force his erection away by sheer will-power. "Get off the bed, Éponine" he repeated himself, and he cringed when he heard the hoarseness of his voice. He really needed a drink.

Instead of gracing him with a reply, Éponine smirked. She began slowly lowering her body until she was perched on her shins, her hands remaining on the bed's headboard for support and her center stopping merely inches above his face.

Enjolras was about to voice his indignation about her continuous disregard of his requests when his nostrils were suddenly hit by her womanly scent and all words escaped him. He couldn't help himself from letting out a guttural breath after inhaling her sweet fragrance, and his mind blanked as his eyes gazed up at her tempting womanhood.

Éponine shivered as she felt his hot breath hit her center. She bit her lip and it took such a large amount of self-control to remain in the same position and not thrust herself upon his face. "Monsieur Enjolras" she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, "please."

The blond gritted his teeth as a massive internal struggle went on inside of him. His rationality and reason fought against his more basic, animalistic urges, rendering him at a loss for what he should do.

"Please" she begged once more and lowered herself slightly, until his nose slightly grazed her clit, causing a soft whimper to escape her throat.

Enjolras closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his senses become overwhelmed by the aroma of her arousal and the feeling of her heat only a breath away from his lips. He opened his eyes and admired the soft flesh of her sex. Without even truly realizing what he was doing, he lifted his head slightly and brushed the tip of his nose against her swollen clit. He grinned when Éponine started with a yelp.

"It tickles" she giggled and bit her lower lip, trying to hide the satisfied smirk on her face. Her mind was slowly becoming clouded with desire and all she wanted was to feel more of him. She positioned herself so that the little bundle of nerves between her legs was directly above his mouth and slowly began swaying her hips, brushing her folds against his soft lips. She mewled and whimpered as the contact sent small shocks of pleasure through her body. "Please, Enjolras."

"What am I going to do with you, 'Ponine?" Enjolras sighed against her folds, his mouth twitching in a smirk as he felt the moistness or her desire wet his lips. Without warning, he stuck his tongue out and ran it through the entirety of her sex, tasting her sweetness and appreciating the sound of her pleasured shriek that only he knew how to elicit.

He let his tongue tenderly trace each fold a few times, letting himself enjoy the softness of their flesh, before moving it to her clit and flicking the little bundle a few times with its tip. He slowly began circling the swollen bud clockwise, then counterclockwise, and then repeated the process several times, before returning his attention to her folds again.

Éponine groaned and shuddered as Enjolras fed on her center. Her hold on the headboard tightened as the sheer force of the pleasure he was causing made her feel dizzy and weak. She could hardly believe such bliss was even possible; it was astounding how he managed to lift her to new heights every time they were intimate, and so easily at that. It was incredible. _He_ was incredible.

"ENJOLRAS!" she screamed as she felt him take her clit between his lips and suck it gently. She threw her head back and her body shook uncontrollably the more suction he applied. She removed a hand from its place on the bedpost and brought it to one of her breasts, kneading and caressing the soft flesh of her mound. She caught her nipple between two fingers and began pinching and twisting it, adding to the ecstasy the man underneath her was already producing. She lightly pressed herself downwards and began slowly gyrating her hips against his mouth as he licked her.

Enjolras groaned against Éponine's pulsating core as she swayed against his lips; he was so aroused he could barely contain the overwhelming desire that was bubbling within him. Her juices were dripping down his chin and throat, quenching the thirst that had consumed him before. He swallowed every drop of her; he was insatiable and he felt like he could never have enough of her taste.

A loud moan escaped her lips as she moved her center lower on his face and his chin suddenly hit her opening, pressing against her slightly. Éponine's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she gasped at the overwhelming sensation.

His sucking and licking of her clit, his lips kissing her folds, the point of his chin adding pressure to her slit made her body tremble. She was so close to heaven it felt like she was soaring, but she didn't want to reach it; not yet. She was not that selfish.

Unexpectedly, Éponine briskly lifted her hips and gingerly got to her feet, leaving a perplexed Enjolras to follow her with his eyes.

The blond looked at her questioningly, and worried that he had done something wrong. He did not get the opportunity to ask however, as she hastily turned her body around so her back was now facing the wall and lowered herself back down upon him.

Enjolras happily reclaimed her sex with his mouth, but faltered as he felt her bending forward and her hands began fiddling with the buttons of his pants. He groaned loudly against her folds when Éponine released his hardened member from the constriction of his trousers and wrapped her small hand around it.

She began slowly running her fingers up and down his shaft, letting them linger on his tip and squeezing it gently in her palm.

His breaths started coming in harsher, and it took everything he had to remain focused on his own task. His tongue lapped at her center, while his lips would pinch her soft folds or suck on her swollen clit which made Éponine struggle with staying concentrated as well.

The waves of pleasure that were washing over her core while he devoured her were so powerful she could barely breathe. She was dying to drown in ecstasy, but she also did not want to go alone. Using both hands, she caressed his throbbing erection, one stroking his length in eager motions, while the other traveled south until it found his testicles.

He hissed when her fingers gently brushed against his testicles and his body tensed. When he felt her tongue flick against his tip, he was no longer able to contain low growls from escaping his lips.

Éponine could taste the pre-cum on the apex of his manhood and she smiled as she licked him clean, enjoying the salty taste of his seed as well as his blissful moans against her slit. She loved pleasing him. He was always very vocal during sex; hearing his sighs and groans was one of the things Éponine enjoyed most.

When she opened his mouth and suddenly took half his shaft in at once, Enjolras cried out so loudly that it made sounds come out of her own lips. She began bobbing her head up and down his hardness, taking more of him in, bit by bit. For the part she couldn't get in her throat, she used her hand to compensate, stroking and squeezing him as she furiously sucked him off. All of this and her other hand that was still massaging his testicles made Enjolras see stars before his eyes.

He had to give it his all to keep himself from erupting right then and there; the only thing that kept him grounded was his own task of keeping Éponine at the same level of heaven he was on.

He maneuvered his own arms in such a way that they were now underneath her, spreading her folds apart and allowing him better access to her slick heat. His tongue swept against the pink flesh as he explored every inch of her core, until it finally rested on her opening. Slowly, he inserted his tongue inside of her, forcing as much of it in as he could. After finding the limit of his reach, he gently retracted his tongue, only to push it back in with greater force.

The unexpected intrusion made Éponine gasp. She shivered as her skin became covered in goose bumps and the ache deep down in her lower abdomen became unbearable. She couldn't stop moaning as he tormented her; even as she shoved the entirety of his length down her throat, she could not stop screaming. Even though her harsh pants and groans were muffled by his member that filled her mouth to the brim she could not stop vocalizing her euphoria.

They both knew they were slowly reaching their breaking point. Their mouths fed furiously on each other's sex, the pair anxious to push the other over the edge of ecstasy as soon as possible. They both let out loud guttural moans as he ravished her between her legs and she swallowed his length to the hilt.

When Enjolras brought his fingers to her clit and gently pinched it, Éponine shuddered so violently one would think she was having a seizure. His index finger began making circular motions around the small bundle of nerves while his tongue thrust inside of her and his lips caressed her folds. He could feel she was close, as her breathing became shallower and her body began clenching around him. Feeling her on the brink of erupting, he wrapped his arms around her backside and forced her down harder onto his face. His mouth opened wide and covered the whole of her sex as if he did not want a single inch left out. He sucked hard and his tongue danced furiously around her wet heat as her juices ran down his throat. He drank every single drop of her, while the excess drizzled down his chin and all the way to his throat, staining his nightshirt in the process.

Éponine's body convulsed as rapture finally took over; her vision went blurry and her ecstatic scream would have rang throughout the bedroom had her mouth not been filled to the brim with his throbbing arousal.

Enjolras could feel the tremor in her throat around his shaft and it made him start losing control as well. He quickly withdrew his lips from her spent sex and barely managed to breathe out: "'Ponine, I'm…" before the overwhelming bliss made him lose his voice.

But that was all she needed to hear. Dazed as she was, she could clearly understand what he was trying to express. She removed his straining member from her mouth and hastily replaced it with her eager hand. She stroked his length in frenzied motions while her other hand was still busy caressing his testicles. She rubbed him so hard and fast her arms were beginning to hurt, but no matter how straining it was she would not have stopped even if her life depended on it.

"God…" Enjolras groaned as he squeezed her backside and buried his head between her legs. His hips bucked and his body shuddered as rapture flowed through his body. His eyes went up into his head, and with a scream, he finally exploded in a mind shattering orgasm. As he came, his hot stream hit Éponine, who had not been fast enough to dodge, square in the face.

They both remained in the same positions until they were finally able to get their breathing under control and get back in contact with reality.

It was Éponine who moved first. She gingerly rose off of Enjolras' body and settled herself beside him in a seated position.

After he finally regained his thinking capacity, he turned his head to look at her, ready to deliver his usual speech on why what they had done should never happen again, but immediately froze as his eyes fell upon the young girl's form.

Éponine was gazing at him with a dazed smile on her lips; her body was shining with sweat, her cheeks were flushed and her pretty face soiled white by his dripping ejaculate. His semen drizzled off her face down to her perky breasts and Enjolras could not help but stare at her in awe.

She was beautiful. And the thought that he was the one who made her look like that made his heart pound inside his chest. Were he not so tired, he would yank her to him and ravish her again on the spot.

"What are you staring at?" she asked teasingly.

He considered not answering her question, but for some reason, he decided to go with the truth this time. "You."

Her smile faltered for a short moment, and she looked at him confusedly. Then it widened and she lowered her gaze and Enjolras could have sworn she looked embarrassed.

The blond finally managed to get up and sit in front of her. As he did so, he grabbed a handkerchief from the bedside table and handed it to her.

Éponine stared at the piece of fabric but did not move to take it. Instead, she brought her index finger to her breast and scooped a few drops of his seed on its tip. She stuck out her tongue and licked his ejaculate off her finger as she glanced up at him with a challenging expression.

She was about to repeat the action when Enjolras suddenly grabbed her by the wrist. He stared at her with a dark expression, and she shuddered at the intensity of his gaze. His breathing had become labored once again and the throbbing vein in his temple told her that he was already aroused.

But instead of throwing himself upon her like Éponine had hoped, the blond took the handkerchief and shoved it in her face. He rubbed her skin harshly, wiping the semen off as if he were cleaning a child who had dirtied himself after a meal.

The gamine protested and tried to escape his hold, but his hand on her wrist kept her firmly in place.

"Stay still" he admonished as he rubbed the last of his seed off her face. He then brought the handkerchief down to wipe at her neck, chest and finally at the swell of her breasts.

Éponine inhaled sharply as the soft fabric came in contact with the skin of her mounds. She glanced at him as he busied himself with cleaning his own ejaculate and couldn't help but want to laugh at his serious expression. She loved seeing how focused he was on his task, his eyes fixed on her chest, his cheeks flushed and his lips slightly parted. She wanted to kiss those lips so badly.

When he finally finished, he looked up to find her staring at him intently, her bottom lip between her teeth and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Before Éponine knew it, Enjolras had grabbed her by the nape of the neck and yanked her body to his own, capturing her mouth in a deep, needy kiss.

She mewled against his lips and immediately opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance. She could still taste herself on his lips, and she could feel the familiar pressure in her lower regions beginning to surface again. Éponine brought her fingers to his head and buried them in his soft hair, tugging at the blond locks as their lips danced against each other.

He cupped her face in his large hands and let his tongue sweep inside her warm cavern. When all the air had completely left his lungs, he begrudgingly pulled his lips away and gazed into her large brown eyes.

They stared at each other for a while, both panting and red faced from the heat that had enveloped their bodies.

Éponine was eager for him to once again make her his and braced herself for Enjolras to take her right then and there. She was shocked when, instead of pouncing on her, he swiftly buttoned up his trousers and fell back onto his bed with a satisfied sigh.

"Sofa" was all he said before shutting his eyes closed and letting his exhaustion get the best of him. A few short moments later and his chest was rising slowly as he finally drifted off to sleep.

The gamine shook her head in surprise and stared blank-faced at the slumbering man. She could not believe he could so easily ignore his obvious needs and choose to sleep rather than satisfy them.

She considered waking him and forcing herself upon him again, but after glancing at the dark circles under his eyes she thought better of it. He looked so serene and peaceful as he slept that she could not bring herself to bother him.

She shot the window a quick look and realized the rain had finally ceased. With a sigh, the gamine slowly got off the bed and carefully made her way back towards the sitting room. She gently closed the door behind her and, after finding her clothes which she had unceremoniously discarded on the floor, made work of dressing herself. '_No point in staying in this flat any longer_' she thought as she pulled her skirt up her thighs.

It was still not very late yet; perhaps if she went home now, she would still catch Marius before he went to bed. A smile crept on the girl's lips as the image of the young man's gentle face and the memory of his kind voice bidding her 'good night' flooded her mind.

She hastily finished dressing herself, eager to leave Enjolras' home and run back to her own. Before letting herself out, she stopped by the table where the owner ate his meals, upon which a large bowl of red apples was placed in its center. She pocketed the two handsomest ones she could find and grinned. '_Perhaps Marius will appreciate it and smile at me_' she thought wistfully.

Without so much as another glance back, Éponine ran out the front door and out into the dark, damp streets of Paris. Her mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of her handsome dark-haired neighbor, while all memories of the blond man she had given herself to only a few minutes ago disappeared into the night.

* * *

Thank you very much for reading, the third chapter will take some time to get here, as I'm still writing it, but hopefully it won't take me exceedingly long to get it done. Reviews are very much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Here's chapter 3. Sorry it took so long, but as you can see I'm trying to make up for the long wait with an extra-long chapter. I know it's big, but there is actual plot in this (not even I'm capable of writing 10k-word smut). Anyways, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy.

* * *

_ May 1__st__ 1832_

It was an ominous occurrence when even Enjolras was at a loss for words. The law student sat silently at his table, chin buried underneath his intertwined hands, his gaze fixed on the agitated crowd in front of him and his mind in a million different places, thinking of a million different things.

Les Amis de l'ABC had all convened at the Café Musain after Joly, who had claimed the need to divulge an important piece of news to the organization, had requested the impromptu meet. "General Lamarque has fallen ill with cholera," he had announced, leaving the audience of students in stunned silence.

The group of young men took turns at staring at each other with deep uncertainty spread across their young features as they processed this disturbing new bit of information.

"What are the chances of recovery?" Combeferre was the first to speak, a somber expression darkening his usually serene face.

Joly shook his head wearily and removed his spectacles in order to wipe the lenses clean with a handkerchief. "Close to none, I am afraid. The general is already well past his prime, and his body is in no condition to properly fight the disease. I doubt he will see the end of summer," the medical student answered with a sadness one rarely heard in his usually good-humored voice.

Suddenly, Enjolras rose from his seat and began pacing about the room; he was agitated and he found it almost impossible to stay still.

Lamarque was dying. The people's man, one of the only politicians he truly looked up to, would soon be no more; somehow he could not bring himself to believe it. His mind was racing, his brain had become a jumble of thoughts he could barely make heads or tails of, and his heart was beating furiously inside his chest as he stomped from one end of the room to the other. "This is a very important development. This could be the spark we need to light the road to progress," he muttered breathlessly as he wrung his hands together in a mix of anxiety, excitement and, what he would never admit, fear. "With Lamarque on his death bed the people's concerns will only increase in numbers," he added, much louder this time so as everyone could hear. "They will come to realize that they are losing their defenders one by one, and unless they rise up and fight for themselves, freedom will never come."

He finally stopped pacing and gazed into the faces of his comrades. "The people will come to realize that they are the ones who truly have the power," he said and he could feel his pulse accelerate as agitation coursed through his veins.

"Do not be so quick to deem this an opportunity, Enjolras," Combeferre, always the voice of reason within the group, interrupted his best friend's excited speech. "This news could just as well be ill-boding for us" the guide reasoned, and looked at the Chief with a mild look of worry on his face.

The blond shook his head at the medical student's observation. This was not the time to be pessimistic; they had to look to the future with hopeful eyes. If they couldn't do that then there was no chance they would succeed on their journey to a better France. "Then we shall turn this event to be in our favor. There are times when good things do not come to those who wait." His voice was clear and he made himself believe each and every word he spoke. "While there is life, there is hope."

The room erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause, the faces of these young men who fought for freedom now shining with dreams for a brighter future, their strong desire for liberty fueled by the leader's passionate words of encouragement.

Enjolras contemplated the excited students and nodded in approval. Their enthusiasm was of the essence as the time for change approached frighteningly fast. He only hoped it would last, for all of their sakes.

* * *

Éponine roamed the streets of the Latin Quartier aimlessly, with no destination to reach and no one to reach it with. She glanced at the beggars and thieves that lined the grimy road of Rue St. Michel, those who were as downtrodden as she, who fell to their knees for less than a crust of bread, or whose eyes locked on the pockets of their unsuspected pray like hawks; the hungry and the diseased who looked towards each new day with nothing but hopeless fear. Normal people would be dismayed by this depressing sight, but after years of seeing and experiencing this kind of misery every day, to her, it had become nothing but a cruel, natural reality.

Whenever she gazed at the ensemble that was the poverty-stricken lower class of Paris, her mind always wandered to the merry band of bourgeois misfits, the so-called 'Amis de l'Abaissé', and she could not help but snicker at the thought. '_Those boys will sooner end up dead than feed all of those who are hungry,_' Éponine reflected. No matter how good their intentions were, she knew all of their efforts would be in vain_. _It was a hopeless cause, and only those who truly knew what it was like to be one of the abased could understand.'_They will see for themselves soon enough,_' she thought and continued her trek along the filthy Parisian street.

"It doesn't suit you, you know," a deep voice rang out from behind, causing Éponine to start and whirl around to see who had spoken.

Her body relaxed when she realized who the owner of the voice was. "Oh, it's only 'Parnasse." She acknowledged the handsome young man uninterestedly and was ready to continue her walk when he called out to her again.

"What do you mean _only_?" the dandy grumbled, faking an offended expression and drew himself nearer to where she stood. "I feel hurt, Éponine, it's like you've already forgotten how close the two of us used to be."

"I haven't forgotten," the gamine shrugged, not batting an eyelash before this dangerous man's taunting. Montparnasse may have been a cold blooded killer, but she knew him well enough to know that he never hurt women, and no matter what threats he spewed, he would never lay a hand on her. "You said 'it doesn't suit you'," she added, suddenly remembering his words of greeting. "What doesn't suit me?" Éponine asked, more out of curiosity than actual interest.

"You seemed deep in thought," he lifted his cane to mockingly point at her and chuckled. "It doesn't suit you. I always considered you as more of a doer than a thinker."

"Well you considered wrong," Éponine snapped, irritation seeping through her voice as her gaze turned into a heated glare. "I'm not stupid, if that's what you're implying."

"I said no such thing!" the young man replied innocently, lowering his cane and lifting his free hand up in a defensive gesture, though he did not bother to hide the amused smirk on his lips. "You are infinitely brighter than all the women I've ever been with put together," he added and flashed her one of his charming smiles that would melt the hearts of any weak-willed mademoiselle that would cross his path.

"Now you're just exaggerating," the gamine said unfazed, brushing his compliment off like it was nothing as she slowly started to lose patience with the man's antics. "So, what was it you wanted, 'Parnasse?" she asked and eyed the assassin warily.

The handsome young man responded with a shrug. "Nothing in particular," he said in a seductive tone, leaning in and brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. "Can't old friends stop and chat with each other? I thought you would have been happy to see me," he ran a finger on the side of her face as he leered at her. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"I am neither happy nor upset," Éponine deadpanned and pushed his hand away with her own. It was true, Montparnasse could hardly cause a stir anymore, even after all they had done together and how close they had been before. She had thought she loved him at one point in her life, but after meeting Marius, she realized the truth was far from it. The two men were such complete opposites she wondered how she could have ever been attracted to them both. Perhaps her taste in men was as strange as she was; that or perhaps what she truly needed was someone in-between, a mix of these two extremes. Still, her heart was already possessed by Marius, so what she wanted outweighed what she thought she needed in a man.

"You've fallen deep in thought again," he observed with a frown, once again startling her. "Are you thinking of that bourgeois boy of yours?" he sneered and took a step back to glower at her.

Éponine was caught off guard by his question. How did he know about Marius? The only person who was aware of her affections for the young man was –

"The blond one," Montparnasse continued and she could see the corner of his eye twitch in anger as he spoke. "I still haven't forgotten what that imbecile did to me," he spat and his hold on his cane tightened visibly.

Éponine blinked, feeling confused for a moment, then snorted as she remembered the particular incident. "It was your own fault, 'Parnasse," she snickered and ignored the scandalized look the dandy threw at her.

He pursed his lips and glared daggers at the gamine. His face had become a light shade of red and she could clearly see the vein in his forehead pulsate in fury. "You know, I never thought you would ever waste your time with someone like that bourgeois pig," he seethed. "A rich, good looking man like that will only use you and will not hesitate to toss you out like a rag once he is done with you." Montparnasse had once again approached Éponine and was now leaning into her face with a vicious smirk on his lips that chilled her to the bone.

The gamine bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from recoiling away from him. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing his words had hurt her heart, and even though the dandy was in fact referring to Enjolras in his speech, all Éponine could think of was Marius.

"And do you know why he will toss you out?" Montparnasse continued, bending his body so that his face was now only a breath away from hers. When she didn't answer, he continued with venom seeping from his voice. "Because he can find better."

Éponine's hand slapped the side of his cheek so suddenly and so hard that it left the assassin completely frozen on the spot. He blinked several times in shock, but before he managed to process what had just happened, the gamine had spun on her heels and dashed away down the busy street, away from him and his stabbing words.

'_Marius would never do that!_' she thought as she sped down Rue St. Michel. She could not stand still, she needed to move; her heart was beating furiously inside her chest and she could feel her eyes filling with tears she would never shed.

'_Marius would never do that!'_ she kept telling herself, trying not to think of how this was most probably true, trying not to think about how in fact there was nothing for him to toss away.

She sprinted down the street, not looking back or forward, unaware as to where she was heading; her mind was too occupied with heartbreaking thoughts to even care where she went, and so she let her body decide for her. She ran for what felt like hours, passing hundreds of faces, hundreds of pairs of eyes that did not spare even the slightest of glances for this young, lost girl. '_No one cares_' she thought miserably, '_why would he?_'

Thoughts of Marius filled her mind, thoughts of his kindness, of his intelligence, of his boyish good looks, of his deep blue eyes that charmed her again and again. She loved him, that she knew and that she was sure of. Yet Éponine, who was neither stupid nor naïve, also knew that he did not share the same feelings, not for her at least. '_Perhaps one day_' she wished as she finally came to a halt after suddenly recognizing the street she now found herself on.

The gamine raised her head and stared at the building that was Enjolras' tenement and a disbelieving chuckle escaped her lips. '_Guess my body knows what it needs better than my mind does,_' she mused and shook her head bemusedly.

This unexpectedly reminded her of the fact that Montparnasse had actually referred to the blond and not Marius when he had spoken those words to her. It made Éponine want to laugh. The idea that Enjolras would, _could_, renounce her was truly laughable. '_If anyone will do the tossing, it will be me._'

It was amusing how much of a hold she had on the young man. It was so easy to gain control of him, to make him do her bidding; it was actually a bit too easy sometimes.

She wondered how long this affair would last. '_Until I find something better,' _was what she told herself, but deep down she knew that the only one who could be deemed better was Marius and Marius alone. It might have been cruel of her to use Enjolras like this, but she always told herself that he was doing the same with her.

The gamine stared at the large building before her and contemplated its aged façade. It was not as fancy as the more luxurious tenements that students of Enjolras' wealth rented on this side of the Latin Quartier, but it was still worlds apart from her own shabby lodgings at the Gorbeau House.

Without giving it any unnecessary thought, she entered the tenement and walked the already too familiar path towards Enjolras' apartment: second floor, last door on the right; vis-à-vis his best friend Combeferre's own flat. Éponine smiled as she thought of the two inseparable young men, who she knew shared a deep friendship the likes of which she had never known, and probably never would.

It was a difficult thing to admit, but the truth was that she was jealous of Enjolras. He was wealthy, he had friends, probably had a family who actually cared for him, he was beautiful, he was educated… they truly were complete opposites. They had next to nothing in common, yet nevertheless here she was, sneaking into his home, seeking the comfort of his embrace and dying for just a small taste of him to help relieve a little bit of the unhappiness in her soul.

It did not take her long to reach his front door. Luckily the landlady was nowhere in sight and she managed to avoid being seen by any of his neighbors (she was her father's daughter after all). For good measure, she chanced knocking twice, hoping that Enjolras would make things easy for her by being home, but typical of the busy student, he was not. It was probable he was still at the Musain, with his little band of student revolutionaries and Éponine wondered for a moment if Marius was there as well. She once again became lost in her thoughts until she remembered where she was and quickly pulled herself together, turning her concentration on the more pressing matter of getting herself inside Enjolras' apartment.

After glancing about her surroundings and making sure all was clear, the gamine stuck her hand inside her belt pocket and took out two old rusty hairpins that she took care to always carry around on her person should chance ever require their use.

She crouched down on the floor and put an eye against the keyhole while closing the other to allow a better view. After figuring out the basic workings of the lock, she carefully inserted one of the hairpins into the lower part of the keyhole, and after easily determining which way the cylinder had to be turned, she applied a light torque to the hairpin in the right direction and held it so. Not wasting any time, the motions having been ingrained in her memory ever since she could remember, she quickly took the second pin and inserted into the upper part of the keyhole. Feeling the first pin of the lock, she pressed it with just enough pressure to overcome the spring's own downward one until a faint click could be heard, signaling that pin number one had been beaten. It only took her a few more minutes to get all of the pins set, and she carefully used the pin on the lower part of the keyhole to turn the cylinder to complete the process and finally unlock the door.

Éponine grinned proudly at her handiwork, and for once was grateful for her father's Spartan teachings on the finer skills in the art of burglary.

She rose to her feet and after glancing around one last time, she opened the door, just as she would have in her own home and let herself into Enjolras' flat.

* * *

"What of the other organizations?" Enjolras asked, pen in one hand and his forehead in the other, while he sat hunched over an article he was writing on the importance General Lamaque's death would have on the future of the country that he would soon send to various Parisian newspapers, in hopes some of them would do him the favor of publishing it.

Combeferre, who stood a few paces away, leaning his back against the wall, stared at his best friend with a pensive look on his face. He had known Enjolras for the better part of his life; he knew all his quirks and characteristics, knew his habits, knew when he was angry, tired or, on rarer occasions, happy – basically, Enjolras was like an open book to him. '_Or, at least he used to be,_' the medical student pondered; recently it felt like the pages were being turned before he had the chance to read them in their entirety.

It was perplexing how in the past few months, a slightly newer side of Enjolras had surfaced, one that the Guide had never before seen coming from his friend. He was more relaxed, he seemed to be sleeping better as far as he noticed from a medical standpoint, he actually smiled now and then, the frequent headaches that plagued the blond had become much scarcer and he just seemed in overall better spirits. And even though there was no one who was happier that Enjolras' mood had taken a turn for the better, the change was too sudden. Even after a good amount of reflection on his best friend's new behavior, for the first time in a long while Combeferre was at a complete loss, and that disturbed him more than he would care to admit. He had no idea what was happening, and Enjolras' stubborn denial that there was something amiss definitely did not help.

The Chief had always been a very reserved person, especially regarding his private life, but he would always falter when Combeferre asked the right questions. This time however, invisible walls surrounded the blond that even the Guide could not break down, and as his best friend, this saddened him.

But even though the newer facets of Enjolras' behavior were disconcerting, it was the sight of the Chief sitting at his usual table, hunched over his work with a deep frown lining his brow and nothing but concentration in his eyes which reminded Combeferre that in dire times like these, no matter the entanglements of his personal life, Enjolras still only had eyes for one thing: his beloved Patria. And this was reassuring.

"Then that leaves the men of the _Barrière du Maine," the Chief commented, still not lifting his gaze from his work. "We must send word of Lamarque's condition to them at once," he added and raised his eyes to briefly survey the room. "Any volunteers?"_

_ "Allow me to offer my services to you, Enjolras," Grantaire slurred and raised his bottle of absinth in the air. "Not even the true friendship between _Damon and Pythias_ can compare to the bond the lovely chaps from the Barrière and I have formed."_

"Absolutely not!" Enjolras snapped and glared at the drunkard reprovingly. "You are never to be sent on an away mission ever again, especially to the _Barrière du Maine._ Not after what happened last time."

Grantaire rolled his eyes and scoffed. "So little faith!" he grumbled. "Very well, I will just remain here and reflect on the sacrifice of Polyxena at the grave of Achilles while you all fret over your ill general." He sighed dramatically as he plopped down on a chair and raised his feet to rest them on the table, his bottle of liquor secured safely in his grip.

"Listen here, drunkard," Enjolras warned and raised himself from his seat with an intense glower that he directed at Grantaire. "It is one thing for you to – "

"Why don't I go to the _Barrière_?" Courfeyrac quickly chimed in, and Combeferre was grateful for the Center's always-impeccable timing.

Enjolras moved his piercing eyes away from Grantaire to his third in command and nodded. "Very well," he approved and retook his seat, once again turning his attention back to his article.

Combeferre took this opportunity to survey the room for a moment.

The group of young men was animatedly chatting over glasses of wine or absinth about the new direction their efforts would go down from here on out. Their faces showed excitement, but the Guide's trained eye could easily see the fear and uncertainty behind the gayety on their faces. No one knew what the future held in store, and that was something that could unsettle even the strongest of hearts.

With that thought, he turned to look at the Chief, just as he was furiously scratching out whole sentences and mumbling God knew what under his breath while he replaced the deleted words with new ones. As a future doctor, Combeferre could not help but notice the prominent dark circles under Enjolras' eyes, or the look of uneasiness on his face. He might not be able to guess what was on his mind as well as before, but luckily, the external signs he could not miss.

"Enjolras," he called out to his best friend just as the latter scratched out another long sentence.

The blond looked up and gave the Guide an impatient look. "Yes?"

"You seem to be having trouble with your article," Combeferre observed sympathetically.

Enjolras sighed and took the papers in his hand to wearily examine his own writing. "I have finished it and have said all that needs to be said" he sighed and shook his head. "Now I just have to find a way to make it feel more relatable to the general public and less…" he waved his hand in the air as he tried to find the right words.

"Radical?" Combeferre finished his sentence and gave him a knowing smile. "Enjolras, why don't I finish the article for you," he suggested, feeling sorry for his friend's plight. "I know I will be able to soften up the rougher edges of your writing. I can take it with me home and I can also bring it to the post office first thing tomorrow morning on my way to the Necker. What say you?"

Enjolras frowned and it was clear that he was not too taken with the idea; he had never liked receiving help from others or letting foreign hands touch his work, but seeing as it was Combeferre who asked, he was actually taking the offer into consideration.

"Enjolras, you are tired," the Guide observed and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "And don't try to tell me I am wrong" he added, stopping Enjolras just before he could protest. "You can deny it all you want, but I can tell you are weary and I can also tell the news of the General's illness has unsettled you. And you are not the only one either," he said and gestured to the rest of the students in the room. "Everyone is stressed and uneasy right now. Perhaps we need to call it a night and take some time to think of what has happened."

"There is no time for that!" Enjolras snapped and slammed his palm on the table's surface, looking thoroughly affronted. "We do not know how much time Lamarque has. We cannot afford to waste any time!"

"And I know that," Combeferre reasoned patiently. "However, working yourself, or us, to exhaustion will not benefit our cause in any way. On the contrary, this is a time in which we must keep a clear head, as important decisions will soon have to be made, and we cannot allow stress or weariness to cloud our judgment. Not now."

An odd look flashed over the Chief's face. He seemed to be considering something and he did not seem to like what he was thinking. Most peculiar.

"Enjolras," Combeferre added with a kind smile, "you must understand that your mind will not be able to function properly without a sound body. Unfortunately, there are some things you just cannot control."

Enjolras' eyes widened and he looked like he had just received a slap to the face. Combeferre knew the idea that there were things the Chief could not control mortified him, but the words needed to be said.

"I formally propose we end tonight's meeting right now," Combeferre said and he tried to add as much authority in his tone as he could, without sounding like he was giving out orders, "and I insist you go home and get some rest. Doctor's orders!"

Enjolras grit his teeth and glared at the medical student; he almost looked like a child who was being told to go to bed early. Amusing as it was, Combeferre didn't like playing the part of the strict parent, but if that was the only way to make his friend listen, then he would willingly assume this role.

With a defeated sigh, Enjolras finally put his pen down and rose from his seat. "Are you coming as well?" he asked as he donned his jacket and was ready to take his leave.

Combeferre shook his head. "You go on, I will stay here and finish things up."

"'Ferre, I still think I should – " Enjolras began, but the Guide had already anticipated this last attempt at a protest and quickly cut him off.

"Go home, Enjolras" he said kindly, but sternly.

With a final scoff, the Chief reluctantly nodded and after bidding his goodbyes to the other students and calling the meeting officially over, he left the backroom of the Musain and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

The door shut closed behind Éponine as she entered Enjolras' apartment.

It was a strange feeling standing in the middle of his sitting room without him being there to either try to kick her out of his house or fuck her brains out on the floor, as it usually happened when they were both in the same room.

The flat was not as lavish as one would have expected from a bourgeois such as Enjolras. It was a simple two-room apartment, scarcely decorated with elegant but old furniture. He kept it tidy save for his desk which was a mess of papers, books and pens, all thrown in what looked like complete disarray. Though knowing Enjolras, even the mess probably had a certain logic to it.

There were two large bookshelves filled to the brim with books and tomes, on what subjects, Éponine had no idea; she had read the names Voltaire, Rousseau and Diderot on some of them, names she recognized, but knew next to nothing about.

The one piece of lavishness in the flat was the large, elegant sofa, which was the centerpiece of the sitting room. It was made from red velvet and mahogany, and to the gamine, whose own bed was nothing but an old mattress and a patched up dirty blanket, this piece of furniture looked like it had been made for a king. She assumed that to a bourgeois, this sofa was probably nothing out of the ordinary, but to her, it was more beautiful than a royal throne.

Her eyes then fell on the table in front of it where the large bowl of apples was placed in its center. Éponine considered taking one, as she felt her stomach rumble from hunger. She refrained however, remembering how several nights ago she had offered one of those apples to Marius, only to be gently turned down and told to give it to her younger sister. She had appreciated the young man's kindness, but she had not been able to help the disappointment in her heart at not getting to eat the apples with the boy she loved.

Shaking her head, she pushed all thoughts of Marius aside, as this was not the time to become melancholic, and made her way to the bedroom, where she planned to wait for the master of the house to return.

The bedroom was much smaller than the sitting room and also much simpler. The only pieces of furniture that decorated the room were a bed, a dresser and a smaller bookcase, with books that looked much more worn than those in the sitting room. '_Enjolras probably has a habit of reading them before bed_' she mused. It made sense that his sleeping quarter was so plain, as he did not spend much time in the bedroom, apart from sleeping or sleeping with her.

With a lopsided grin, she lazily undressed herself and lay down on the bed in waiting. '_He should have a difficult time refusing me like this_' she thought wickedly, knowing well how weak Enjolras became at the sight of her bare body.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty; Éponine tossed and turned in the sheets, feeling as if seconds were turning into minutes, and minutes into hours. She was never the impatient type, but at this moment, as the memory of her previous conversation with 'Parnasse was still fresh in her mind, and so was her anger, Enjolras could not get there soon enough

She cursed the blond for his tardiness, but she knew getting even more frustrated would not make time go faster, so she resorted to the only thing that could calm her down and help the minutes pass: dreaming of Marius.

With a smile, the gamine closed her eyes and let her mind wander to the sweet boy who, no matter what, always made her feel better. She imagined him lying on his side next to her, resting his head oh his hand and looking down on her with that kind smile she adored.

'_You're so beautiful, 'Ponine_' she heard him say and could actually feel his hand gently brush against her shoulder. His fingers softly trailed the smooth skin of her arm, down to her elbow then back up. She smiled contently as she felt his hand slowly move to her collarbone, then to her chest and finally reaching the swell of her breast.

Éponine inhaled sharply and opened her eyes to see that it was her own fingers that had involuntarily found their way to her soft mound. She considered removing them but Marius' image fought its way back into her mind and his hand (or, in reality, her hand) cupped her breast and gave it a gentle squeeze. A tiny moan escaped her lips when Marius began pinching and flicking his thumb against her erect nipple. The thought that the fingers that were teasing here were his and not her own made her heart beat violently in her chest, and the pressure in her core steadily built up to a dull ache.

'_You are amazing, Éponine. You feel so good,_' she could hear him whisper in her ear and it made her shiver. She brought her free hand go cup the other breast and her body writhed in agony as she massaged the silky flesh.

"Marius!" she groaned as he teasingly tugged and rolled her rosy tips between his thumb and middle finger.

The tingling sensation between her legs was becoming even more pronounced, and she would have died to have Marius extinguish the blazing fire in her core. She opened her eyes and saw the young baron was now looming on top of her, looking at her with adoration in his crystal clear blue eyes. She could actually count each freckle on his nose. '_I love you, 'Ponine_' she heard him sigh and she hummed in bliss as he placed soft kisses on her neck.

"Take me!" she mumbled, losing the ability to properly articulate the words, and her hand slowly began its descent to the apex of her legs. Her fingers brushed against her folds, feeling the moistness of her arousal and she whimpered as she began slowly drawing circles around her swollen clit.

Instead of seeing her index and middle fingers stroking her sex, Éponine saw a large hand clenched around a hardened cock, rubbing the shaft's head against her, parting her folds, and settling against her opening, ready to bury itself into her wet depths.

Just as she was about to impale herself, she looked up and froze. A surprised gasp escaped her mouth as she stared in shock at the image of a nude Enjolras holding her pelvis up to his own, looking back at her with a dark expression on his face. His blond locks clung to his damp forehead, his cheeks were a deep red color and beads of sweat covered his entire body as he pressed his erection against her slit, his whole frame shivering in desperate need.

'_'Ponine you're perfect!_' She started at the sound of Marius' voice and she realized he was actually still there. She was now leaning with her back against his bare chest and could feel his hands caressing her arms and shoulders lovingly; placing small kisses on the soft skin of her nape.

Éponine glanced from the brunet, who was holding her tightly to his chest, who whispered sweet nothings in her ear and who gazed at her adoringly, to the blond who was holding her waist up, ready to plunge his length inside of her, looking at her like a starving man looked at a three-course meal.

Her heart was beating furiously inside her chest and her breathing was coming in short, ragged pants. She didn't think she had ever felt more aroused in her life; there was a fire in her core that needed to be put out, lest she would surely burst into flames.

Unable to hold back any longer, she drove her fingers insider her wet sheath, crying out as she imagined Enjolras' cock fill her to the hilt, and she could have sworn she heard him growl at that moment.

Her body arched and she writhed in torment as Enjolras pumped into her in a slow, insistent rhythm while Marius trailed warm kisses on her shoulder. She steadily increased the tempo of her hand, moving it up and down, and then in circles, arching her fingers to reach the sensitive spot in her center that sent electric shocks throughout her body. Her hips gyrated against her hand, desperate for more friction and pressure on her throbbing sex. Seeing the image of Enjolras ramming into her with that pained expression only she knew he wore whenever he was fighting back release had Éponine moaning and gasping in ecstasy with each incredible thrust.

Feeling her climax approaching, she hastened the motions of her hand, pumping her fingers into her slit so fast her arm begun to ache. But she pushed the pain aside and focused on the thought of Enjolras slamming his erection into her with everything he had.

'_Let him take you_,' she heard Marius whisper in her ear. When she turned to gaze at him in confusion she realized he was no longer there, and the only thing she could now see was the blond revolutionary moving deeply within her, looking at her with such desire it took her breath away.

"ENJOLRAS!" she screamed as her body quaked in rapture and she could have sworn she had exploded into a thousand pieces at that moment. She gasped for air and shivered as the strain of her orgasm died down and she slowly reclaimed control of her body.

After her vision refocused, she realized Enjolras and Marius had both disappeared. She was now alone in the middle of the revolutionary's bed, with her back resting against the pillow, sweat dripping down her skin, legs sprawled open and hand still tucked between her legs.

She closed her eyes and tried to replay what had just happened in her mind. Why had Enjolras suddenly appeared? Why was it him that fucked her and not Marius? Why had Marius disappeared and left her alone with him? '_Let him take you,_' imaginary Marius had told her and she frowned at the memory.

'_Take me where?_' she asked herself, thoroughly confused by her own imagination. '_Perhaps he meant to let him take me in a sexual way? Or perhaps –_ '

"Éponine?"

The gamine's eyes snapped open her head shot up in surprise. She stiffened when her gaze fell on a pair of steely blue eyes glaring down at her from the doorway.

Éponine gulped and smiled sheepishly. "Evening, Enjolras."

* * *

_ One hour ago…_

'_There are some things you just cannot control._'

Combeferre's words rang in his ears as he marched down Rue St. Michel on his way home after being practically forced to leave his own meeting.

Enjolras was fuming, and was glad the road was deserted at the moment; it would have been bad for him to take his anger out on some poor soul who would be unfortunate to cross his path right now.

'_There are some things you just cannot control._'

These words had felt like a punch to the stomach, yet somehow, he could not get them out of his head. He knew Combeferre had meant well when he had spoken them, but the fact remained that they had filled him with doubt in his own abilities and had caused the feeling of uncertainty he was fighting back spread throughout his body like poison. Enjolras despised feeling weak or insecure, and this was not the time to let his _emotions _get in the way of reason.

He was angry, tired, afraid, and the news of Lamarque's illness had still yet to fully sink in. He genuinely did not know if this was truly advantageous for them, but it was now his responsibility to make sure it would be. It was imperative he pushed away the grief and anxiety he felt right now so as to let himself be consumed by the plans that needed his undivided attention.

After a while he finally reached his flat and as he was about to unlock his front door, he noticed, to his surprise, that it was in fact open. Enjolras frowned. He had never forgotten to lock his door before. There was no chance he could possibly be so careless.

Warily, he slowly opened the door and stepped into his apartment. His eyes dashed around the sitting room, trying to assess if someone had indeed trespassed into his home, but as far as he could tell, everything was in the same place as they were when he had left this morning. Nevertheless, he walked to his desk from behind which he pulled out his canne and stealthily made his way to his bedroom as he noticed the door to the room was ajar. He stopped in his tracks as a soft whimpering sound came from behind it and he unconsciously tightened his hold on the canne. He carefully nudged the door open, just enough so he could get a decent view of the room, without being noticed in return.

He froze.

Enjolras had to blink a few times and shake his head to make sure that what he was seeing was reality and not a product of his weary mind.

Lying completely bare on his bed was Éponine, who was squirming and moaning as her hands eagerly fondled her small breasts.

The blond inhaled sharply at the sight of the gamine touching herself like that. He had absolutely no idea why she was there, or why she was doing this, but he could not help but admire how erotic she looked and how consumed by pleasure she was.

He swallowed hard when her fingers pinched her rosy nipples, the action forcing soft mewling sounds out of her mouth and he bit his lip as he felt his manhood become hard in his trousers. He was mesmerized by the sight of what she was doing to herself, and just as he considered entering and literally take matters into his own hands, Éponine went and said the one word he had not wanted to hear right now: "Marius!"

Fury welled up within Enjolras and his hold on the canne tightened so much it was a good thing the stick was sturdy or else it would have been crushed by the force of his grip.

How could she?! How dared she think of Marius while she satisfied herself in his home?! In his bed!

The revolutionary had a mind to storm in there and drag the gamine out and throw her out of his apartment once and for all, but as Éponine's hand began traveling downwards, he found himself once again staring powerlessly at her as she began stroking herself between the legs. Her mouth let out soft pleasured sounds as her small fingers traced her folds and circled her clit in slow motions.

"Take me!" she mumbled and he started, almost worried that he had been caught, but Enjolras realized that was not the case as she still seemed lost in her own little world.

The blond's own breath started to come in harsher and he could feel sweat wetting his brow as he became more and more aroused. He felt slightly ashamed of watching her in such an intimate moment, but seeing as she was the one who was trespassing and had no business being there in the first place made him a little more at ease with the situation.

Suddenly, the gamine's movements stopped. The girl was frowning and her gaze moved from one place to the other, as if staring between two separate things only she could see and looking thoroughly confused. After a few moments, it seemed she had reached some sort of decision and her hands restarted their circling motions against her sex.

Éponine cried out as she inserted two fingers into her slit and Enjolras, in turn, could not contain the growl that escaped his lips as he stared at the fascinating sight. Fortunately for him, the gamine was too much under the spell of her fantasies to catch his slip-up and she continued to thrust her fingers inside her center, blissfully unaware of the hungry pair of eyes that were gazing at her.

Her body writhed in torment as her fingers relentlessly pumped into her core. She rocked her hips against her hand and her face scrunched up in ecstasy while the soft pleasured sounds he knew so well filled the air around her.

He couldn't believe how captivating Éponine was right now. There was something so sensual and familiar in the way she moved that it reminded him of every single time the two of them had been intimate. Enjolras could tell she was getting close to climax, he knew the signs so well by now: the way her body swayed, the sounds she made, the look of pure bliss on her face. It was as if he was staring at one of their own sexual encounters, except he was now erased from the picture and probably replaced by that idiot Pontmercy.

"ENJOLRAS!" she suddenly screamed and her body jerked violently for a few moments in complete rapture before relaxing completely and entering her regular post orgasmic daze.

The blond stared at the gamine with wide eyes, completely taken aback by what had just occurred. She had screamed his name. She had screamed his name while climaxing. But what about Pontmercy?

He had no idea what had happened, all he knew was that his heart was beating unnaturally fast and somehow, a large part of his anger towards the girl had completely evaporated, leaving only a strange fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could find no logical explanation for. He gazed at the gamine as she tried to level her breathing and he could not help but think how beautiful she looked right now.

Before he could stop himself, he pushed the door open, stepped inside the bedroom, and halted at the foot of the doorway.

"Éponine?"

* * *

They stared at each other awkwardly for what felt like an eternity and they both seemed to be trying to find the words to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon the room.

Enjolras' blue eyes bore into her as he stared with pursed lips and an unreadable expression on his face.

Éponine's cheeks were on fire and she cursed herself for feeling so embarrassed at being caught in such a state. She fidgeted under his intense glare and it was only when his eyes started traveling down her body and stopped at the apex of her legs that she realized her fingers were stilled buried deep within her center.

Trying to rid herself of her shame, as she didn't enjoy being the one in the compromising position, she forced a wry smile on her lips and gently unsheathed her fingers from her slit. "How long have you been watching?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible and raised her soaked hand to casually examine it.

"Long enough," he said tersely, his eyes following her hand as she wiped it of her juices on his sheets. "Why are you here?" he asked and returned his gaze to stare her in the face.

The gamine shrugged. "I came to see you," she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and raised her eyes to meet his stony ones. "But then I got tired of waiting," she added and flashed him a brazen smirk.

"I gathered," Enjolras deadpanned. He looked as if he was already bored with the conversation, but Éponine could tell there was something off about him, though she could not quite figure out what it was.

"How long were you watching?" she asked again, in the hopes of gauging the smallest reaction out of him, as his phlegmatic countenance was making her slightly uneasy.

"I told you, long enough," he replied simply and turned away from the gamine to stare out the window, now even refusing to look at her.

As annoying as his behavior was, she could not help but admire his strong profile as he pensively gazed into the distance, his still rosy cheeks and his glistening brow made his handsome face even more appealing than usual. For a moment, Éponine compared the Enjolras from her fantasy, who had gazed at her with intense passionate eyes as if she had been the only thing that mattered in the world, to this real Enjolras before her, who barely acknowledged her presence and the only emotion she could see was an odd flicker in his eyes she did not really understand.

"You screamed my name," he suddenly asked, startling her out of her reverie.

"W-what?" she stuttered and felt her skin once again grow hot. '_Did he actually watch the whole thing?_' she thought mortified.

"You screamed my name," he repeated himself, not removing his gaze from the windowpane. "Why?"

"That does not concern you!" Éponine snapped, starting to feel like a cornered animal and a bit self-conscious about the fact that she was still completely naked on his bed.

"You are in _my _house, in _my_ bed and you cried out _my _name. In a rather interesting moment may I add? I should think these are enough reasons for me to be concerned," he retorted and there was a strict way in which he said it that made Éponine even more cross.

"Well, I do not want to talk about it," she said with finality in her voice, crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him in defiance, daring him to fight her over this.

His eyes flashed to her face for an instant before returning to contemplate the world beyond the four walls of his bedroom. Silence fell and after a while, Éponine thought the blond had actually forgotten about her, until he finally spoke again. "How did you get in here?" he asked and this time there was genuine curiosity behind his words.

The gamine smirked. "I have my ways."

"I locked the door," he added with a frown, "and I live on the second floor."

"You would be surprised what one can do with just a pair of hairpins and a good amount of dexterity," she chuckled and raised her head in pride over her own skills.

Enjolras' brows rose to his forehead, but he still did not turn to face her. "You picked my lock?" he asked in disbelief. "Where did you learn something like that?"

"There are many useful things to be learned on the streets, Monsieur." She shrugged like it was nothing, and frankly, if she had to compare it to the things she had seen others do throughout her lifetime, then lock picking truly was nothing.

"This is not a skill a girl like you should know," Enjolras commented and the frown returned to his brow.

Éponine's body straightened and she stared at him in indignation. "Well, excuse me for learning things that help me stay alive!" she spat, feeling fully offended by his words. This man had no idea what fighting for survival meant and he was the last person in the world who had the right to judge her. "Or would you prefer I start selling my body for a few sous?! Surely that is a skill a _girl like me_ can know, how to be a good fuck. "

"Stop it!" Enjolras exclaimed and she noticed a troubled look flashing in his eyes for a brief moment. "You know that was not my intention."

When she refused to respond and simply glared at him, he continued. "I just meant you should not have to resort to breaking the law in order to survive. That is why I am fighting, it is for people like you that we strive to – "

"Don't speak of what you do not know, you stupid bourgeois boy!" Éponine barked, feeling the rage and frustration from before returning to her ten times stronger. How dare this man think she needed someone to fight for her or to give her a better life? He knew nothing about her; he knew nothing of what she had gone through, and the thought that this is what he believed she wanted infuriated her. He was so naive to think he could get the citizens of this city to join his little war, there was no chance he would ever be able to reach out the hearts of the miserable people. She saw it every day, she felt it on her own skin, hope had long been lost and nothing he would do could change that. "There are things you will never understand," she said, malice dripping from her voice, "just as there are things you will never be able to control."

Enjolras' head snapped round to face her so fast it made the gamine jump in surprise. He stared at her with wide blazing eyes and whereas his face was devoid of emotion a few moments ago, now the rage on his face was as clear as daylight.

Éponine however did not waver under the heat of his glower, her own anger bubbling inside too strongly to be intimidated by this fool. If he wanted a fight, she would give him one he would remember for the rest of his life.

Silently, the revolutionary stalked over to stand at the foot of the bed, his intense eyes not leaving hers for a second. "You've got some nerve," he said through gritted teeth and she could see the prominent vein in his forehead pulsating in fury. "You break into my home, pleasure yourself on my own bed, and now you have the audacity to call me stupid to my face? To say that I don't know anything or that I can't control – " He faltered and took a deep breath, and for a moment Éponine thought he looked distressed.

She stared at the young man in confusion. She had never seen him like this before; he was pale and there was something akin to insecurity in his countenance that she never thought would come from someone like him. Had she not known who she was looking at, she would have said he looked afraid. "Enjolras" she said softly, and was surprised to hear actual worry in her voice, "has something happened? You look unwell."

"That is none of your concern," the blond snapped back with a snarl and his eyes began measuring her from head to toe, while his breathing started coming in rougher than before.

Éponine felt herself blush under his scrutiny and it would be a lie if she said the hungry expression on his face did not send a shiver down her spine.

"Turn around," Enjolras ordered and somehow, she could not find the power within her to say no. So she obliged, rolling over so that she was lying on her stomach with her back towards him. The tingling sensation once again resurfaced in her core and she bit her lip in anticipation for what he was going to do next.

Suddenly, Enjolras grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her to him so hard she yelped in surprise, and he did not stop until her knees were resting at the edge of the bed on either side of his body. His hands found her waist and roughly lifted her pelvis so that she was now on her shins, while her chest still lay on the soft bed sheets.

Her eyes widened at the sound of his trousers hitting the floor and the excitement for what was coming next made her whole frame tremble. The young man had never taken the initiative like this before. It had always been she who always made the first move, yet here he was, ordering and moving her as if she were nothing but a toy. It aroused her more than she could ever have imagined.

Éponine gasped when two of his fingers found her slit and gently spread her folds apart. She could not see what was happening, but the sensitivity of that area made her aware of even the smallest of motions he made. While two fingers were keeping her folds apart, another pair found her opening and slowly eased themselves inside of her. She moaned loudly as he began pumping into her core with a steady rhythm. His large fingers felt so different and so much better than her small ones, he had a deeper reach and the knowledge that someone else's hand was touching her in the most intimate part of her body made the experience infinitely more intense.

"It appears as though the effects from your previous activity are quite long lasting," he observed in a low voice and removed his hands from her center, pretending like he had not heard her protesting whine. He placed his palms on her behind and Éponine could feel just how drenched they were as he wiped himself of her juices on her own skin; just as she had done on his sheets, she observed amusedly.

The gamine started when she felt Enjolras press the tip of his erection against her opening; she wasn't expecting him to get to it so quickly, but apparently he was just as eager as she was. She screamed when his cock at last impaled her in one powerful thrust that shook her to her core.

They both groaned as he started thrusting into her rapidly, and his length filled her so completely she felt like she might explode. He rocked her body to his rhythm as he fiercely pounded into her and she bit her lip in elation as the sloshing sound of their bodies joining filled her ears.

"You're too wet," Enjolras suddenly growled in frustration, and faster than it took the gamine to fully understand what was happening, he unsheathed his erection from her throbbing core, forced her legs closed so that her thighs were touching, and hurriedly drove back into her, burying himself to the hilt in one wild motion.

Éponine's mouth opened in a wide 'o' shape, but no noise came out, all the air having been knocked out of her lungs by the force of his thrust.

"Oh God!" he cried out and the added friction made rough noises come from his mouth among a slew of curses he could not stop muttering. He plunged his hard manhood into her tight heat with animalistic passion, and the way their sexes roughly rubbed against each other made both of their heads spin. He began pulling her to him by the hips so that their bodies met halfway with loud, wet slapping noises and the added power was so intense it made Éponine's eyes water to the point where her vision became blurry and unfocused.

"Never. Break. Into. My. Home. Again!" Enjolras growled with each violent push against her slit. "Do you understand?" he barked and accentuated the sentence by ramming into her so hard she felt as if he was going to tear her apart.

"YES!" she screamed, and it was in that moment that her body shook uncontrollably in a blinding, explosive moment of release, her orgasm so intense she couldn't believe her body hadn't shattered into a million pieces.

Enjolras cursed loudly and his grip on her hips tightened so hard Éponine was sure she would have bruises the next morning. After only a few more thrusts he bucked within her and with a roar he burst inside of her and she could feel his body quiver while he poured his seed into her. Panting harshly, he removed his sex from hers and collapsed on the bed beside her in an exhausted heap.

Éponine couldn't even bring herself to change her position, her body was spent and numb, and her sight had yet to fully come back to her. She glanced at Enjolras and when her eyes finally came into focus she noticed the troubled look on his face.

Usually, after sex, the blond would resort to lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a vacant expression and avoiding as much interaction with Éponine as possible. This time, while his position was the same and he was still ignoring her, his brow formed a deep frown and his eyes were moving frantically in his sockets, like there were multiple invisible roads in front of him and he was trying to follow them all to see where they led.

"Are you all right?" the girl asked softly before she could stop herself and managed to get up to sit on her knees next to him. Her body was sore, but somehow it did not feel right to lie in bed beside this man for too long at a time, especially when he appeared as disturbed as he was now.

Instead of answering, the revolutionary covered his face with his hands and inhaled deeply. For a terrifying moment Éponine thought he was going to cry, but when he removed his palms, his eyes were as dry as they had ever been.

"Leave," he said simply, and there was something akin to begging behind his tone that was deeply unsettling.

She stared at him for a moment. Éponine wanted to say something but she had no idea what that was. Wordlessly, she got off the bed and dressed herself as quickly as her tired body allowed and with one last glance at Enjolras' unmoving form she silently let herself out of his bedroom and then his flat.

As the gamine exited the tenement and walked out into the warm spring night, she couldn't help but turn and look up to the blond's window one more time before she left. Something had happened today that had disturbed Enjolras, and while she had no idea what that was, she knew that she had made his bad mood worse. Normally, she would have thought sex would benefit the revolutionary's state of mind, but apparently tonight was quite the opposite.

Éponine sighed. '_I hope he will overcome whatever it is that's troubling him,_' she thought sadly, and turned away from his building to begin her trek towards the Gorbeau House, for once thinking of problems that were other than her own.

Enjolras was upset with her, and it was an unexpectedly depressing thought.

* * *

And there you have it. For those of you who do not know, a 'canne' is the weapon used in Canne Combat, aka Single Sticks, the martial art Enjolras is said to practice. Hope you like it, and I promise to try and keep the chapters a bit shorter next time.


	4. Chapter 4

And here is chapter 4 at last.

Sorry it took me so long, guys, but I've been on vacation and also had a lot of stuff going on this past month, so writing has been a bit difficult.

And I know I promised to keep the next chapter shorter than the previous, but with the format I chose for this fic, and since a lot of things are going on in each chapter (stupid plots), the chances of them growing shorter are slim, but I hope you'll still read it and like it nonetheless.

Once again, massive thanks to ThinksInWords for looking the chapter over and being awesome. Also thanks to all the girls over at the Enjonine forum for being so supportive.

Enjoy the chapter, more notes at the bottom.

* * *

_May 10__th __1832_

"I have spoken with my contact about the twenty rifles, Enjolras," Feuilly reported, tipping his straw top-hat and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "I've also spoken with that retired National Guard member and I should acquire the two satchels of gunpowder shortly before week is done."

"Good man!" the chief nodded approvingly and clasped the fan maker's shoulder. Leave it to Feuilly to be ever efficient in whatever task may be given to him; another reason why he deserved the Chief's unwavering respect and reverence.

Enjolras patted the young man on the back once more and let him go about his other business while he took to look at the backroom of the Musain, which was filled with energy and intense discussion as Les Amis de l'ABC planned and plotted the next surely eventful days to come.

After more than a week had passed since the news of General Lamarque's illness had been released to the general public, the question on how this will affect the country and her people was on everyone's lips. To the secret student-led republican organizations the answer had become universally clear: Revolution.

After several meetings filled with debates, disagreements and then agreements, the leaders of the larger societies had, after many arguments, finally come to the conclusion that Lamarque would become the spark that would set off their rebellion. Enjolras, as one of those leaders had been slightly wary of agreeing to this at first, feeling that many of the young students would not be prepared for battle quite yet, but the passionate speeches of the veteran members of La Societé des Amis du Peuple – Arago, Galois, Cavaignac and Blanqui – had convinced him that in truth, their best bet at inflicting change was to take advantage of this opportunity and the best way to fight was through conspiracy and careful planning.

And it was a good thing he had agreed. Finally having a plan set in place and a direct path to follow gave Enjolras a sorely needed feeling of security. The grief, anxiety and uncertainty he had felt when he had first learned of the General's plight had now been replaced by acceptance, excitement, and most importantly, hope.

Still, the weariness and stress that came with it were not making his job very easy. As the Chief, a large part of the responsibility of the revolution's success weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had to lead les Amis de l'ABC, not only on the battlefront but behind the front lines as well.

Procuring weapons, writing articles, giving speeches, rallying the people… these had all now become central parts of Enjolras' daily routine and he scarcely had time for anything else. His schoolwork had begun to suffer, his hobbies had been forgotten, if not completely abandoned, even sleeping or eating had started being neglected. That is until Combeferre had one day angrily confronted him about it, with the frustrating addition of another unnecessarily long lecture on the importance of good sleeping habits and maintaining a healthy diet by Joly, who just could not help but interfere whenever health was the topic of discussion.

Had he not enjoyed doing what he did, the physical and mental pressure he was feeling surely would have bested him long ago. But his passion and love for Patria held far greater importance than his own health or sanity. He was not fighting for himself, after all.

'_Speaking of passion,_' Enjolras was hit by a sudden thought, '_I wonder what has become of Éponine._'

The blond had tried to keep his mind off the gamine in the ten days since their last encounter; sometimes he succeeded and sometimes, when he found himself in more idle moments, she stubbornly found her way back into his thoughts, tearing his logic and concentration at the seams.

His days were for the most part too hectic to have time to think of the girl, a thing he was thankful for. At night however, the moment his body collapsed onto his bed, a hundred images of her invaded his mind like an infection. He could almost see Éponine touching herself on his bed, feel the dampness of his sheets, wet with a mixture of her sweat and arousal, and smell her scent on his pillows… The longest he had lasted until his hand found his erection was fifteen minutes.

Enjolras was not unaccustomed to stimulating himself sexually; before Éponine, it was his primary method, alongside Canne de Combat, of releasing pent-up stress and relieving some of the pressure from his body. But now, it had reached a point where he was unable to sleep in his own bed without having to expel the invasive thoughts of the gamine out of his body.

The fact that Éponine still managed to find her way into his mind, regardless of how angry she had made him ten days ago, was confusing, if not somewhat irritating.

The words she had directed at him had felt like heated daggers in his stomach, and even though he had regretted the roughness with which he had treated her afterwards, Enjolras still felt considerably bitter about it.

'_It would be a pity to end it like this, but perhaps it is better this way,_' he thought as he walked towards the window and leaned against the wall, staring blindly down at the dark streets, looking but not truly seeing anything. It was a habit of his that aided him in his thinking; he didn't know why it helped, but it gave him a peace of mind that nothing else could. And strangely, he found that recently, he would resort to this habit whenever his mind wandered to Éponine.

'_I wonder what she is doing right now._'

* * *

'_There he goes, staring out the window again._'

It had always been a fairly common occurrence for Enjolras to settle himself in a quiet corner of the Musain's backroom and gaze out the window pensively. It was something he would resort to whenever there was not much to do, or when there was a lack of conversations that were of any interest to him. But never had this habit of his come up as often as it had in the past several days, and in such hectic times as these no less.

It was yet another oddity that had recently surfaced in Enjolras' behavior, and Combeferre had no clue whether he should ignore it, or be seriously concerned. Where he had seemed as, if not more relaxed ten days ago than he had been even before their involvement with the republican movement, now Enjolras seemed tenser than ever. Although granted, the work he had to do and the fatigue that came with it were more than enough reasons for this erratic change of moods, the Guide still couldn't shake the feeling that something else was amiss with his dear friend.

'_It could still be due to exhaustion or stress,_' the doctor in him reasoned, '_but that would be too simple._' And given who the man in question was, there was a high probability that there were more complex reasons behind this brooding atmosphere surrounding him than not.

Combeferre for a moment considered going up to his best friend and asking what the matter was, but he never got the chance as he was suddenly startled by a hand gently clasping his shoulder. He turned to see it was Courfeyrac, smiling at him tiredly and who had bent down to speak so that his words would be heard over the din that filled the room.

"'Ferre, I believe it is time we call this meeting to an end," the Center said, and no sooner had the words left his mouth that his body shook as he stifled a yawn. "There has been enough work done for one day, and take no offense, but if I have to hear Enjolras order me around one more time tonight I am afraid I will stain my new shirt in his blood," he quipped, and even though he was smiling, his hand clenched around the Guide's shoulder painfully. The young man's patience had obviously reached its breaking point.

"Well, we cannot have that, can we?" Combeferre grimaced at the dark haired student's morbid words and after quickly glancing at his pocket watch, he had to agree that it was indeed past what one would call reasonable working hours.

"Dear Heavens, it is already two in the morning," he groaned and removed his spectacles to rub the weariness out of his eyes. It had been such a busy day that he had not even realized how exhausted he truly was. "Send the boys home," the medical student nodded at Courfeyrac as he placed his glasses back to their rightful place on his nose. "Will you notify Enjolras, or shall I?"

"I am leaving the honors to you, my friend" the other man answered and gestured towards their brooding leader. "He seems to be in his own world right now and I am certain I do not wish to be the one to reel him back down to Earth." And with that, he patted Combeferre on the shoulder sympathetically and left to dismiss the other Amis.

With a defeated sigh, the Guide rose from his seat and sauntered over to where the blond stood, waiting until the room was emptied out before calling out to the pensive young man. He couldn't help but be a little impressed by Enjolras' ability to stay so focused on something to the point where he lost contact with the world around him. Not even the shuffling of tables and chairs, the chatter and laughter, and the sound of the door slamming shut a dozen times over did not manage to shake him out of his reverie.

After Courfeyrac, who was the last person remaining departed with a nod in Combeferre's direction and a quick worried glance in Enjolras', the Guide finally approached his best friend and gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Enjolras?"

The blond started and his head shot up to look at the young doctor. After blinking a few times in confusion, his eyes quickly darted around his surroundings and he frowned. "Where is everyone?"

"Gone," Combeferre answered, "they went home. It is already past two in the morning and some still have to work or attend class today, you being one among them, may I add?"

Enjolras scoffed. "I do not have time for school, 'Ferre," he waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal and straightened himself. "Why did no one ask me whether I agreed with ending our meeting?"

"You seemed a tad preoccupied; no one wanted to bother you," Combeferre gave his friend a weak smile. "That, and everyone thought you would notice when the room started to empty."

The Chief once again blinked in confusion, then his eyebrows shot up to his forehead and a horrified look dawned on his face. He groaned and ran one of his hands through his unruly curls. "Christ, 'Ferre, you should have said something! I must have looked like a complete fool!" He flashed the other man a heated glare and stalked over to his table where he sank in his chair with a huff.

Combeferre shrugged. "I do not think that waking you from your daydreams qualifies as one of the Guide's duties," he deadpanned, not feeling insulted by his friend's remark; if anything, he was slightly amused by Enjolras' embarrassment. "I must applaud you however," he added with a grin, "not many have such an impressive power of concentration as the one you displayed today."

He had expected the blond to react angrily, but instead of retorting, Enjolras sighed. "I wish it were actually so."

Confused by his friend's words, the medical student was about to request an explanation, but the law student prevented him from doing so by speaking again.

"Are you going to leave as well?" he asked while glancing at some letters he had been writing earlier in the evening.

"I am," Combeferre confirmed and began searching for his coat and top hat. "I have the morning shift at the Necker so I will be unavailable until late in the afternoon. You?"

"I will probably meet with Arago to discuss further matters regarding the approaching rally at Lamarque's house. We must be very careful about how we plan this; one mistake and we will all be spending the night in jail, or worse."

The Guide nodded. He thought about voicing his disapproval of his friend's meeting with Étienne Arago, one of the more prominent figures of their movement who, with his exceedingly radical views and rather ruthless personality, was not the best influence on Enjolras. He said nothing however, and finished dressing in silence.

"Are you not coming?" he asked as he opened the backroom door, ready to depart.

"In a little while," Enjolras replied, still not lifting his head to meet his friend's gaze. "I will just finish things here and then I will go."

Combeferre knew that this 'little while' probably meant at least another hour, but as fatigue and the dread of this morning's shift began taking their toll on him, he decided that he was not up for a fight tonight. He had already done all he could by admonishing, sometimes even pleading with Enjolras to take things slower and rest more, but they could argue on the subject only so many times. "Goodnight then, my friend, I will see you tomorrow," he finally said, and after Enjolras absentmindedly voiced his own farewell, the Guide exited the backroom of the Musain and shut the door closed behind him.

Just as he turned to descend the stairs, he suddenly collided with a soft form that had appeared out of nowhere, like a shadow at dusk, and almost made him topple over. "I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed, surprised and slightly embarrassed by the accident.

"Do not concern yourself, Monsieur," a female voice replied and he was taken aback when he looked down to see who the person that had been in the unfortunate position behind him was.

It was that girl, Marius' friend. '_What was her name again?_' he wracked his memory in vain as he surveyed the young, nameless gamine who was gazing back at him, looking a little bit dazed.

"Did I harm you, Mademoiselle?" the medical student asked worriedly and the doctor within him quickly glanced up and down her small figure, trying to assess if any damage had been made.

"I am well, Monsieur," the girl answered with a nod of the head. "It was my own fault, I should not have stood behind you like that," she added and then smiled apologetically.

"No, please, it is quite alright," Combeferre replied with a polite smile of his own.

After a few awkward moments of silence passed, the gamine gave a small nod and moved to bypass him, heading towards the door he had just closed behind him less than a minute ago. "Marius is no longer there," he blurted without really thinking, causing her to turn around and look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me, it was not my place to say that," Combeferre sputtered and felt like he had just said something he shouldn't have, which he probably did.

"Has everyone gone home already?" she asked, her face going from surprised to slightly irritated.

"Only one of us remains," Combeferre answered and gestured to the closed door behind her. "Enjolras is his name. You might have heard of him from Marius."

Curiously, the gamine smirked. "Well then, that is just as well since he was the one I was looking for."

Combeferre blinked and tried to process what she had just said. Since when had Enjolras been on speaking terms with this girl? When had he even met her? And since when does Enjolras even interact with women beside Madame Hucheloup and his mother for that matter?

All of this was very odd and he honestly did not know what to make of it.

"Well then," the gamine said, looking at him expectantly. "Good bye, Monsieur."

He blinked again. "I – " he stuttered before finally shaking himself out of his stupor. "Good night, Mademoiselle," he replied at last and with a polite bow, turned on his heels and quickly descended the steps that led to the café's main floor.

He heard the sound of the backroom door opening and he considered staying to listen to what was happening upstairs, but after thinking it through he realized something like spying was beneath him.

With one last glance at the stairs that led to the Musain's top floor, he sighed and walked out of the café and into the night. "Curious indeed."

* * *

"Did you forget something?" Enjolras asked when he heard the door open only moments after it had closed, and assumed Combeferre had returned. '_He better not say anything about overworking myself again,_' he thought, not lifting his head from his work as he folded one of his letters and put it aside.

"Hey there Monsieur, what's new with you?" a familiar voice spoke from the direction of the doorway that made the student stop everything he was doing and utter a curse under his breath.

Slowly, he turned on his seat to find Éponine standing half-hidden behind the doorframe and looking back at him with that coy smile of hers he knew so well.

Enjolras tried to keep his face as straight as possible, but the emotions and thoughts that were playing inside of him made it nearly impossible to maintain his stony exterior. The second he met the gamine's eyes, he was instantly bombarded by a mixture of anger, frustration, disbelief and most surprisingly, relief. The fact that she had come calling to him at the Musain certainly did not bode well, but he could not deny that he was somewhat glad to see the girl and thankful that she looked to be in good health. Well, as good as her miserable existence allowed it.

"Why are you here?" he dared ask, not bothering to hide the displeasure in his voice and fretted what her answer might be.

She smiled and fully entered the room, shutting the door behind her. "I came to see you, Monsieur."

"It is a little late for a girl to walk alone in the streets, Éponine," he said, ignoring the increase in his body temperature and he turned his gaze back to his papers, needing to look at anything else other than her.

"You forget who you are speaking with," the gamine replied and surprisingly did not sound cross. "I am a child of the streets. I spend more time away from home than not."

Not surprisingly, her words were anything but reassuring. "That does not mean you should wander on your own so much, you know better than most of the kind of dangers that can be found in the shadows." Enjolras thought of the many times Éponine had arrived at his doorstep sporting multiple cuts and bruises all over her frail body; he did not want to concern himself with her, nor he did not want to worry, but the girl's constant recklessness and indolence made it practically impossible to do so.

"I can take care of myself."

The blond scoffed. He was not in the mood to have this conversation or to deal with her stubbornness; all he wanted was to finish his work, go home to his bed, _alone_, and get himself away from this girl who would surely one day be the death of him.

"You seem tense, Monsieur," Éponine said softly and out of nowhere, Enjolras felt soft hands gently grasp at his shoulders.

He had not even heard her approach, but the moment he felt the contact, Enjolras jumped out of his chair as if burned by her touch and stomped angrily to another table. He kept his back to her as the warm feeling that had surfaced in his cheeks was not something he would have wanted her to notice.

"Leave at once, Éponine, I have nothing to say to you, and I am sure I do not care for anything you have to say to me." He forced himself to remember their previous encounter, the venomous words she had spewed, and he let himself be overtaken by the anger he had felt then. He would not be so quick to forgive her. Not this time.

Again, he did not hear her approach; it was only when he felt her hands on his back did he realize she was directly behind him, cornering him between herself and the table he was leaning on.

She pressed her body to his tightly and Enjolras inhaled sharply when he felt the swell of her breasts digging into his lower back.

Before his body could overtake his mind, Enjolras attempted escape by trying to turn around and grab hold of the gamine, but unfortunately for him, she was quicker.

Sensing his intent, Éponine wrapped her arms around him, trapping him yet again, and slid her hands down until they stopped at his crotch where they easily, as if by instinct, found his already growing erection.

"Éponine!" the blond let out something that was a combination of a surprised gasp and an annoyed huff. He tried to free himself and remove her hands from his lap, but she was relentless. The woman started stroking and rubbing her palms against his manhood through his trousers, all the while placing small kisses on his spine that Enjolras could feel even through his shirt and waistcoat.

"'Ponine, stop!" he said through gritted teeth and grabbed her wrists with his hands. He tried to pull them away, but then she squeezed his erection hard and he lost all strength.

He could feel the tenseness in his body slowly seep away as her hands gently caressed his cock. The stress and pressure were gradually being forgotten and he could barely remember the exhaustion he had felt only moments before.

How easily she could gain control of him. With only a few touches, she had him throwing his head back and losing all sense; he became a living marionette whose strings were firmly attached to her nimble little fingers. It was unhealthy and demeaning, but he supposed crying over it now, as he grew harder and harder under her hands, would be a bit hypocritical, especially when what she was doing was actually beneficial to his state of body and mind.

Feeling him relax in her arms, Éponine removed her hands from his lap and slowly turned him around like the puppet he was. Her cheeks were flushed, and the pleased smile she wore as she looked up at his disoriented face would have annoyed him to hell and beyond, but as it were, all he could do was sigh when she lifted herself on her toes and pressed her lips to his jawline.

There was fire wherever she touched; her saliva was like lava on his neck and her fingers were like hot pokers on his skin. With every kiss and caress he grew hotter and hotter, his desperation reaching its peak when she at last unbuttoned his pants and they fell to the floor in a heap around his ankles, releasing his straining arousal from its restraint in the process.

After placing a small peck on his lips that he wished would have lasted longer than it did, she lowered herself until she was resting on her knees and her face was at the same level as his hard manhood.

They caught each other's gaze and Enjolras shivered with anticipation. He had to lean back on the table for stability as he had a feeling that what she had in store for him would leave him weak in the knees at best.

Maintaining their eye contact, Éponine brought her hand to her face, and without any shame whatsoever, spat in it three times.

Normally he would have frowned at such a gross display, but the moment her wet palm grasped his hardening penis, civility and good conduct became the last thing on his mind.

He groaned loudly as she firmly, but gently clenched her fingers around his arousal and then even louder when she began moving her fist up and down his length at a steady pace.

Without taking her eyes off his face, as if she was using his expressions as signs of what to do next, she started increasing the tempo of her strokes and varying the pressure she applied when she squeezed him. God, the effects were maddening.

Her hand felt nothing like his, Enjolras observed. Where his long callused fingers would rub himself quickly and steadily, seeking quick release rather than pleasure, her small, softer ones played with him, trying to lengthen the experience, not hasten it. Apparently, regarding this matter, Éponine cared more about himself than he did.

As if her hand was not causing sufficient bliss with its eager strokes, Éponine suddenly brought his cock to her lips and placed a small kiss on its tip that made Enjolras' whole body clench.

Noticing his reaction, the gamine grinned and proceeded to place more pecks along the entire surface of his sex. From his head down to the full length of his shaft, she covered his cock in soft, warm kisses and by the time she was done, Enjolras was panting harshly and his shirt was clinging to his skin, stained with his sweat.

But she did not let him catch his breath. Without warning, Éponine stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the tip of his penis, twirling it around the pink flesh until the glistening of his precum was replaced by that of her saliva.

"God!" he cried out, feeling himself grow faint for a moment and his hands grasped the edge of the table for support. Her soft tongue and the warmth of her breath on his most sensitive skin felt so incredible Enjolras felt like he would surely die if she ever stopped. "Don't stop!"

Her tongue trailed along the entirety of his length, lingering slightly on the ridge that separated his head and shaft, which she lightly circled with the tip of her tongue. The gamine grabbed the base of his erection with one hand to keep it steady and without taking her gaze off his face for even a second, took the tip of his cock into her mouth and sucked.

"Fuck!" Enjolras cursed and threw his head back when the feeling of her warm mouth envelop his head hit him like a ton of bricks. His hand involuntarily found her mess of brown hair and sank his fingers within it.

She began slowly moving her head back and forth, taking a little bit more of him inside her mouth every time she came full circle, and sucking hard while her tongue continuously danced around his sensitive tip.

The pleasure she provoked made Enjolras almost lose contact with the living world, and even though his surroundings became something of a blurry haze of inconsequence, he could still see her clearly. Even though all that should have mattered was her mouth sucking on his manhood, it was her eyes and face that had him completely entranced. The way she unwaveringly gazed up at him and the way her mouth formed into an o-shape around his member was truly a stunning sight to behold.

Éponine's brown eyes watered as she swallowed his cock almost all the way to the hilt, and her cheeks were such a deep red that even the dim light of the few remaining candles in the room could not mute their pretty color.

He removed his hand from her tangled mane and brushed away a few stray hair strands that were sticking to her sweat stained forehead. Her skin was warm and wet, and he could not help but gently run his knuckles over her soft cheeks, her damp brow, or her small ears.

She hummed contentedly as he softly caressed her face, and her tempo grew slower but steadier as she tried to get as much of him inside her mouth as she could.

The vibration in her throat made the blond scrunch up his face in blissful agony and with the suction and pressure she was applying on his member, he knew that he would not last much longer.

"Éponine," he gasped in warning, notifying her that he was close and ready to let himself be overwhelmed by her, but when she did not pull her head back, he repeated more urgently: "Eponine!"

Still, she did not stop and continued to bob her head to and fro, licking, sucking and never removing her eyes from his.

As he felt the surge of his orgasm approaching fast, he yanked her by the hair and desperately tried to push her head back. "'Ponine, now!"

But the gamine would not comply. She wrapped her arms around his behind and pulled him further into her mouth, groaning as she took the full length of him inside her throat.

"GOD!" Enjolras yelled, unable to hold back any longer as his hips bucked and his back arched in a powerful moment of release. He cursed when he felt his ejaculate splash against the inside of her mouth and Éponine suck hard, squeezing out every last drop of him.

"Fuck!" he groaned as his body relaxed and his breathing began returning back to normal. Gingerly, he pulled his spent sex out of her mouth and looked down at the gamine, ready to ask why in God's name she did something like that.

Her gaze was still locked on the revolutionary, and when their eyes met she swallowed the entire contents of his orgasm in one large, loud gulp. After licking the last few drops of him that had escaped her mouth and were staining her lips white, she smiled. "Feeling better now, Monsieur?"

Enjolras did not fully understand what she meant. His mind was too wearied and clouded after the strain of his release and the awe inspiring display she had just performed in front of him. Were he not so worn out he would have gathered the gamine in his arms and slammed her on the table behind him to ravish her until there was nothing left. As it were, he needed to take a moment.

With some difficulty, he bent down and picked his trousers off the floor, pulled them up and clumsily fastened them. "Yes," he grunted in response to her question as he gingerly walked past her and with an exhausted groan, sank in the nearest chair he could find.

The girl watched him with an amused grin and, as expected, looked like she was taking great pride in once again being the only one who could reduce the revolutionary leader to nothing byt an unsteady mess of a man.

Enjolras was however not expecting her to rise to her feet, pat the dust off her skirt and begin trotting in the direction of the backroom's exit. "Where are you going?" he asked, confused and surprised that she had not yet tried to take advantage of his weakened state to jump him and demand he immediately return the favor.

"Home," she answered and turned her head do look back at him over her shoulder, "a girl like me should not stay up too late after all." She smirked and there was an obvious note of sarcasm in her voice that made him wince.

'_Is she upset? Why is she upset?_'

"What about - " he said and awkwardly gestured towards her body, "you?"

With a giggle, Éponine turned on her heel to fully face the law student. She smiled a sweet smile at him and clasped her hands behind her back. Had she not had his penis in her mouth only moments ago, Enjolras would have thought she looked like just another innocent young girl.

"Today is not about me, Monsieur. It is about you," she replied and he was surprised that she seemed earnest about it.

Enjolras blinked and stared at her, completely bewildered by her words. "I beg your pardon?"

Her smile faltered and she let out a frustrated huff. She actually looked embarrassed, he observed.

"Look," she said, lowering her eyes to stare at her feet and scratched the side of her head. It made her look like an awkward child. "I know I've said and done some things I shouldn't have, and I know I made you really angry last time we – well, you know – so this was just my way of saying – " she paused and raised her head too look him in the face, " – I made a mistake."

Enjolras was not one to be easily left speechless, yet here he was, staring dumbly at this young woman before him and unable to think up a single word of response.

"And besides," Éponine suddenly continued and the smile returned to her face, "I saw you in Place St. Michel earlier today and I couldn't help but think you looked a bit like shit – no offense!" she quickly interjected when she saw the twitch in his eyebrow. "You just looked stressed and tired, and I thought this," she smirked and touched her mouth with her index finger, "could help make you feel better."

He said nothing. All he did was stare at her, his exterior stone, but his insides fire.

"Well, I am going," she quipped and once again turned on her heel to leave. "Good night, Monsieur Enjolras."

"Come here."

The gamine stopped mid-motion just as her hand was reaching out to grasp the door handle. After a second or two in which she looked like she had frozen in space, she slowly turned to face the young man and raised her eyebrow in confusion. "What?"

"I said come here," he repeated himself, and there was an impatient tone in his voice that left no room for backtalk.

Wordlessly and with small steps, Éponine walked up to where he sat and stopped just at the edge of his feet. There was no expression on her face, but Enjolras easily caught the befuddlement and slight worry in her eyes.

"I am not the kind of man who easily accepts favors, Éponine," he said tersely.

"It was an apology," she quickly retorted.

"A simple 'I'm sorry' would have sufficed."

"It was _my _way of apologizing."

"You have a very distorted way of expressing things."

"You enjoyed it, did you not?"

Enjolras smirked. "I did. Nevertheless," and as he spoke, he leaned forward slightly and raised a hand to grab hold of her belt, "while I do accept and appreciate your apology," he began slowly unfastening the belt buckle, "I do not need you to concern yourself with my health, or my personal business."

Her eyes widened as her belt fell to the floor with a loud clunk, and she stared at Enjolras in mild shock when his hand began carefully working on her skirt next. "As such," he continued while his hand reached up to her chemise, "I am indebted to return the favor you have so _graciously_ done for me."

Her clothes fell piece by piece until nothing remained and she finally stood completely bare before him.

He could not help but smirk at noticing the goose bumps that had formed on her skin and the slight shivering of her body. He raised his hand and with a gesture of the head, beckoned her to take it.

Éponine hesitated for a second, but in the end she acceded and slowly, cautiously, placed her small hand in his.

They gazed into each other's eyes and Enjolras wondered why he was doing this or why his heart was drumming rapidly inside his chest. But as he glanced up and down her naked body, he realized that these were not questions he cared to meditate on right now.

His free hand found her waist and he drew her closer, directing her movements just like she had become the marionette this time. He turned her sideways and gently pulled her down to him so that she was now sitting on his lap with her legs hanging down his right side and her behind resting on his thighs.

They sat like this for a little while, and Enjolras noted how small she felt in his embrace; he wondered if she had always been like this, or was it just the first time he had noticed it. Either way, he could not deny how well she fit in his arms.

Perhaps it was because she was naked and he fully clothed, but there was an air of discomfort in her body language that Enjolras could go as far as calling it shyness. '_Éponine being shy – what an idea_,' he thought and could not contain the chuckle that escaped his throat.

"What?" the gamine snapped and he could feel her body tense up as she threw him a dirty look.

"Nothing," he shook his head, looking at her with a mirthful expression. While she continued glaring at him, his hand began mindlessly running up and down the length of her thigh. He touched her softly, barely grazing her soft skin with the callused tips of his fingers, and even though his touch was light as a feather, he could clearly see a trail of more goose bumps sprouting in the wake of his hand.

Biting her lip, the gamine's own hand moved underneath her bottom and aimed for his manhood, but Enjolras quickly intercepted her by grabbing her wrist.

He tisked and shook his head. "No, no, 'Ponine. This is about you, not me," he repeated her words from before and gazed at her darkly. "Now be good and stay still," he ordered and it took all he had not to laugh at her shocked expression.

The girl's skin had taken on the loveliest shade of red and Enjolras was curious if it was from the heat of her arousal or embarrassment. He hoped it was both.

Letting his right hand continue its delicate path along her thighs, his left arm slithered from behind and clutched her by the waist. It was mainly a means of assuring her stability, but because she was so thin, his hand easily managed to fully encircle her back and reach the silken mound of her left breast. He cupped the soft flesh in his palm and smiled at the whimper that came out of Éponine's lips.

As one hand kneaded her breast and the other went up from her thighs to her flat stomach, her body began writhing in his arms and he could feel his trousers become damp in the spot that was below the juncture of her legs. Driven by the ache in her sex, the gamine pressed her thighs together and lifted her hand, the one that was not trapped between them, and clutched a fistful of his shirt in what looked like sheer agony.

He smirked. How he loved seeing her distressed like this and how he loved the matching expression she wore.

Driven by his erratic emotions, he slid his hands upwards from her stomach, passed her chest and reached her face, cupping her chin in his fingers. They only stared at each other for a second before he bent forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.

At first he was gentle and tender, but as the intensity of the situation grew, his kisses went from delicate dewdrops to full on thunderstorm. She moaned against his mouth as their tongues met and her arms clasped his shoulders and desperately attempted to pull him closer.

His left hand was still massaging her breast, but rougher than before, and his right once again returned to caress the soft skin of her belly. He lightly stroked her abdomen with his fingertips, and when he felt her shiver, he began the descent down the path that led to the most sensitive part of her.

With some reluctance, he pulled his lips away from hers and after taking a few deep breaths, he pushed her backwards until she was slightly leaning back, cradled by the arm he had around her. It was easier for Enjolras to gain access to the rest of her body this way, and the full view he had of her in this position was nothing short of splendid.

His hand glided down her stomach, and after guiding her to part her legs, he finally reached the wet heat of her core. He touched her lightly, brushing his fingers over her softness just enough so that she could feel it and get an idea of what was about to come.

She purred like a kitten when his middle finger slid between her folds and delicately traced the entire length of her slit. And she mewled so sweetly when his finger gently pressed down on that tiny bundle of nerves that was her clitoris.

She gasped and moaned with every circle his finger traced around her sensitive nub and Enjolras could not bear to take his eyes off her. He gazed at Éponine in awe of her bodily reactions to his touches, and after a while, he even learned which actions triggered which response. If he circled her clit, her lips would form into a small o shape and she would let out a soft appreciative hum; if he pressed it, she would hiss and tense for a fraction of a second; and if he squeezed it, she would cry out loudly and her body would jerk violently until he released his hold on the little nub. Needless to say, the last one was his favorite.

Wanting to try out something different, he removed his finger from her clitoris and returned it to her folds. He rubbed the soft flesh with his palm, covering her sex completely with his large hand and his fingertips added just the smallest bit of extra pressure on her opening.

Her whimpers quickly turned to moans and nonsensical babbling when Enjolras pressed her folds together and began rubbing them against each other in a steady rhythm. "God… more… you… oh… shit… don't… stop!" she cried and he had to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing at her ramblings.

But he understood what she wanted – he would have been a moron if he didn't – so he once again spread her open and let his fingers attack her clit in the way he knew she liked. He flicked and stroked the little nub rapidly, all the while his other hand continued to firmly knead her breast.

When it looked like she was on the verge of breaking, he moved his hand slightly and pressed the tip of his middle finger against her opening. She screamed when he slowly entered her and her left hand shot up to bury itself in his damp curls in a desperate attempt to ground herself to the land of the living.

It was unfortunate, but their positions did not permit full penetration, as he duly noted when he discovered that three quarters of a finger was his limit, lest the strain on his hand became too great. It _was_ fortunate however that three quarters seemed to be enough for Éponine, who immediately voiced her approval when he started thrusting inside her sex, and very loudly at that.

She cried out in bliss and turned sideways in his arms so that she could bury her head in his chest. He pumped his fingers fervently inside her, and in a matter of seconds, he felt her whole body jerk violently against his as climaxed wildly against him.

Enjolras could never quite get used to seeing Éponine orgasm; there was always a hint of novelty whenever she reached her peak that amazed him every time. But as her body relaxed and her groans became silent pants, he had to confess he quite hoped to never become accustomed to it.

After giving her some time to collect herself, the blond removed his hand from between her legs and carefully turned the gamine around so that he could better see her face. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking down at the disoriented girl in his arms and feeling amazed that he was the cause for the state she was in.

Éponine nodded her head slowly and after taking a deep breath of air, she raised her head to look at him with a dreamy smile. "More than well," she giggled, biting her lip as the fingers she had in his hair began delicately twisting and twirling his blond curls.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at this out of ordinary display of affection. Normally, she would already be dressed and out the door by now, yet she still had not moved an inch from his embrace. He must have done his job well.

"It is getting late," he said, trying to ignore the agreeable feeling of her fingers running through his hair. "I should like to perhaps get some sleep tonight. I have work to do, you know?" Fatigue was starting to catch up to him and it was time he loosed the gamine from his lap before he became too used to holding her like this.

Shaking her head and grinning dangerously, Éponine raised herself up and captured his lips with hers.

She kissed him fervently, and although he was unwilling to respond at first, he soon found himself thrusting his tongue inside her mouth and groaning against her lips.

Suddenly, he felt her shift in his lap and before he knew it, she was straddling him with her legs on either side of his body and rubbing herself against him.

The gamine stared at him directly and she was so close they were practically hugging each other, which was something they never did.

"Éponine what are you doing?" he asked, bewildered and a little bit uncomfortable with their new position.

She smirked. "It is a shame, Monsieur – " she said in a seductive tone and Enjolras felt her hands once again on the buttons of his trousers, which he swiftly made quick work of, " – to let it go to waste," and her hand firmly grasped his erect manhood as she spoke.

"Shit!" he hissed; he had been hoping she would not notice. Trying to keep his head clear, he glared at the gamine and once again attempted to make her stop her teasing. "No more, 'Ponine, I am tired."

"I'm not," she replied and lifted herself to position her sex directly above his.

"Éponine, I said – " he tried warning her, but the sentence was never finished as the girl slowly lowered herself on his straining arousal and all air was forced out of his lungs. They both moaned as the tip of his penis entered her and Enjolras gave up all hope in stopping now.

She lowered herself on him, inch by incredible inch until she allowed him full entry by bearing all the way down to his thighs. Slowly, she began rocking her hips against his and they both growled a slew of curse words as his cock rubbed against the tight walls of her vagina.

Because her legs were slightly short, Éponine was unable to use them to move up and down his shaft, but as the intelligent girl she was, she quickly found a solution to this problem by leaning ever so slightly and placing her hands on his knees to use them as leverage.

Placing her weight on her arms and his legs, she slowly lifted her hips until his manhood was almost out her slit, then slammed back down, screaming as his length filled her to the brim once again.

She continued thrusting against his shaft this way and even though it put a bit of strain on his legs, Enjolras was grateful for this position. Besides the incredible feelings he experienced, it allowed him a splendid view of Éponine's front, specifically her breasts, and the awe-inspiring sight of their joining. Without even thinking, he brought his hand to her center and used his thumb to draw lazy circles around her swollen clit.

"Oh God, Enjolras!" she cried out and increased the speed of her thrusts.

He groaned loudly and had to clench his jaw to hold himself back from losing control. The way her wet walls enveloped his hardness and the way she moved on top of him was enough to drive him mad; she looked so dazzling right now that he could not bear to take his eyes off her even for a second.

"Enjolras! Enjolras!" she repeated his name in time with her motions, and this was usually enough to send him over the edge, but he held on as he felt the signs of Éponine's own orgasm approaching fast.

Leaning forward, he used his free hand to cup one of her breasts and held it up to capture her nipple with his mouth. His tongue lapped at her erect peak and he gently pinched her swollen clit with the fingers of his other hand.

"AH!" Éponine screamed and her body shook wildly as she climaxed for the second time that night.

"Don't stop!" Enjolras groaned when her movements slowed down, on the brink of his own release as well. It only took three more thrusts until he cried out in ecstasy and flooded himself inside of her.

As the moment passed and the rapture died down, Enjolras suddenly began feeling faint. He was so exhausted. Not having a good night's sleep in days and being worn out by Éponine were finally taking their toll on his body. It took everything he had not to collapse and fall into a deep slumber right there on the café's floor.

What happened next was a complete haze. He felt the weight on his lap disappear and he could just make out Éponine's form shuffling about the room, possibly dressing herself, but he could not be sure. It was only when he felt her shake him that he came to enough to get his vision into focus.

"Monsieur, I am leaving. Will you be alright?" the gamine said slowly and looked at him with what could have been worry. Could have been, but Enjolras doubted that it was.

"I'll be fine," he answered, and it was probably a lie, but his weariness was not any of her concern to be quite frank.

She shrugged, and to his relief, did not comment on the matter any further. Without so much as a goodbye, as was her custom, she took her leave from the café's backroom and left the revolutionary alone with his exhaustion.

With some amount of difficulty, the blond rose to his feet, stumbling a bit at first, but after managing to fasten his pants back up, he stalked over to his table and stared at the pile of papers he had yet to finish stacking. He sighed. Once again he sank in his chair, feeling himself unable to stand at the moment, and got ready for another attempt at finishing his work for the night.

Only five minutes passed before Enjolras' head dropped on his arms and the only sound that could be heard in the deserted room was that of his light snoring.

* * *

It was a lovely night.

Lovelier than usual. The air had become warmer, the sky was clear and the stars shone brighter than they had in months. Nights like these always improved Éponine's mood, and even more so if her spirits were already high to begin with.

The gamine happily skipped down the deserted Rue St. Michel on her way home and was even humming some old tune from her childhood that she only vaguely remembered the chorus of. Her body felt light as air and she knew she would sleep well tonight.

Yes, it was an excellent night.

She still could not stop thinking of what had just taken place at the Musain, and she could still not find it in herself to believe that it had actually happened.

Enjolras – revolutionary leader who only knew of Patria and how to push her away Enjolras – had not only fallen prey to her seductions much easier than usual, but he had actually taken the initiative and 'returned the favor', as he had put it. '_And how he returned it,_' she thought and could not help but giggle at the memory.

It had been truly unexpected. When she had first come to him tonight, she had had no expectation, nor desire for her own gratification; all she had wanted was to apologize for a mistake she acknowledged making and honestly regretted.

It took humility to apologize, but it took maturity to recognize when the fault was yours, and Éponine had always taken pride in being older than her years, but docile she was not. As such, she much preferred getting on her knees and using her mouth for other things than uttering the words 'I'm sorry.'

Granted, she would not have done this for just anybody, but had felt the need to do it for him when she had caught sight of Enjolras earlier today, and the shadows cast by fatigue under his eyes or his slightly sagged shoulders, changes that were barely noticeable by most, but ones that she caught with just one quick glance. He was stressed and burdened by things Éponine did not know nor understand, but she was nevertheless struck by a strong urge to remove some of that pressure from his shoulders.

And who knew the one selfless deed she did for the revolutionary would prove to be beneficial for both parties; perhaps the saying 'give and ye shall receive' was true after all.

As she mused, she could not stop the wide smile that spread on her lips as the memory of sitting in Enjolras' lap and being held tightly by his strong arms returned to her. How odd yet wonderful it had felt. Even though the things he had done to her body had been mind-shattering to say the least, there was a much deeper part of her that had been touched by his unexpected gentleness.

Enjolras had never been the wildest of beasts in bed, but he had never touched her so softly and tenderly as he did tonight. '_Perhaps he was just tired,_' she thought and tried to convince herself that this was the most probable answer.

She would have continued pondering this problem further had her thoughts not been suddenly interrupted by the sound of a small voice coming from the direction of one of the adjacent alleys that connected to the main street.

The gamine could not help but stop in her tracks and try to listen more attentively. There was a hint of fear and desperation in the tone of the voice that deeply unsettled her.

Without giving it much thought, and being fully aware that she could easily come to regret this decision, she carefully followed the sound until it led her to the right alleyway.

"Hang in there, everything is gonna be alright, I promise!" she heard someone speak, followed closely by an agonized cry that seemed to belong to a second person. Surged by a worry she had no idea where it was from and why she felt it, the gamine slowly entered the mouth of the alley to take a better look.

In the darkness, she could make out two figures. One was kneeling, holding onto another smaller one who was lying on the ground in a fetal position, clutching at their stomach and whimpering in what seemed like horrible pain.

Eponine's heart stopped for a moment and she found herself approaching the 2 figures, unable to take her eyes off of one of them.

"Gavroche?"

* * *

*gasp* What's this? A cliffhanger? Oops! Hopefully you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next.

I'd like to mention that Étienne Arago, Evariste Galois, Godefroy Cavaignac and Louis-Auguste Blanqui are actual historical figures and members of the Society for the Rights of Man and actually fought during the June Rebellion. Unfortunately, I haven't found much else on these four except for their names, so I'm going to take a lot of liberties with their characters, especially Arago, who will appear in the next chapter.

And yes, I know there is a TON of sex in this fic... and there will be more... and then some. (Is that enough incentive for you?)

Hope you liked it, and thanks a lot for reading.


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